The words you force
The words you yell
The words you fictitiously pronounce
Now becomes you, becomes your energy.
Your energy flow is not lucid any more. Was it ever?
Your demand for a delusional lie to become reality shames you.
These words you force on me have backfired.
I see the colours you wear.
I must now forgive you.
I am what I am.
In having faith in the beauty within me, I develop trust.
In softness I have strength.
In silence I walk with the gods.
In peace I understand myself and the world.
In conflict I walk
away.
In detachment
I am free.
In respecting all living things, I respect myself.
In dedication I honor the courage within me.
In eternity I have compassion for the nature of all things.
In love I unconditionally accept the evolution of others.
In freedom
I have power.
In my individuality, I express the God-Force within me.
In service I give of what I
have become.
I am what I am:
Eternal, immortal, universal, and infinite.
And so be it.
~ Stuart Wilde
I am so beautiful, sometimes people weep when they see me. And it has nothing to do with what I look like really, it is just that I gave myself the power to say that I am beautiful, and if I could do that, maybe there is hope for them too. And the great divide between the beautiful and the ugly will cease to be. Because we are all what we choose.
~Margaret Cho
There once was a skeleton
that dangled from the hanger
hung next to a blue dress
who’s infamous
reputation of a fundamental
mistress
migrated
rapidly
ricocheting within
close confinement
of secrets closeted
her stains could not sustain
the once unsullied
intentions
interlaced into her bosom
in darkness she nested
neglected
seemingly unseen
forgotten
like
long term memory
until one day of
disorderly
disdain
a prose was provoked
poetry hence projected
and all that was hidden
was summoned into sight
and as I write
doors open to the
dormant..
dim is brought to bright
and diction brings forth light
such is life
of the dead
that lives through present
transcript
sacred verses
unveiled
blogged
and shared
ugly endings
resurface
in search of
a seamstress..
Your job, work, life assignment must be the spark that fuels your fire. It must be a passion that you pursue. You must want it enough to do it for free. You must be willing to stick with it, taking the ups and downs, giving it all that you are for as long as you can! You’ve got to taste it, smell it, know it whether you are awake or asleep.
I woke up this morning to find a writing picture prompt in my front yard. Doesn’t this picture speak volumes of oxymorons?
Though I enjoyed the solitude of the winter, I am looking forward to coming out from behind my shadow, and sharing my recent experiences and new found insights. I planted many seeds last season, both positive and negative. I’m now eager to discover which thoughts I tended to the most, as they will be the first to blossom. Happy Spring Equinox!!
The seasons are what a symphony ought to be: four perfect movements in harmony with each other. ~Arthur Rubenstein
A writer's job is never really over. When they have finished an article, it is time for them to start another (That sort of thing can dampen a blogger's spirit, but they have to always keep producing articles; one after the next).
They may ask themselves, “Well, what would it be today?” And soon after, they have a topic at hand.
There is nothing in the world so much like prayer as music is.
~William P. Merrill
The hurt you embrace becomes joy.
Call it to your arms where it can
change.
A silkworm eating leaves makes a cocoon.
Each of us weaves a chamber of leaves and sticks.
Silkworms begin to truly exist
as they disappear inside that room.
Without legs, we fly…..
When I stop speaking, this poem will close,
and open its silent wings . . .
~Rumi
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Nature patiently waits and we have only to turn back to her to find relief from our suffering - Dr Bach
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