In moments of clarity I sing. In moments of despair I moan. In this moment I spy the green seeping from your eyes.
We step in the shallow pool where leaves gather in cooler days. The reds, yellows, and oranges ripen with the setting sun. Browns crunch under our shoes. Your fingers wrap around my wrist, clenching my pulse to see if I respond. I don’t. But I do.
I reach for the new growth you promised me years ago. I see it now. The tender green shoots sprout from your heart.
Covid has an ego and you bow to it’s confines. Fear is the last death of humanity to be obeyed and breathed as decay to satisfy another ego.
Nature tames and destroys.
We often fawn over a bird song but turn our eyes away from the blood on an eagle’s beak. That very beak eats should it’s appetite seek you.
My mind is cruising around the mountainous thoughts rising. What are we doing? Saving our selves or destroying others?
I see this time in history differently. Many believers hope people will return to God. I see the fear pushing more people into the dark. Worshipping people who carry a motto. I see them birthing destruction far greater a war than all wars together. Not caring for others. Rather, turning inward and away from spirit. Saving themselves while blaming others..
I see the scenario much differently than most I know. The destruction of goodness to usher in a masked sense of security. Death wins again.
Author’s note. I wrote this at the very beginning of the pandemic. I did not publish for various reasons. Does it feel right now? Not really. I am hoping a conversation starts… I am listening.
In our irresponsibility, we rather blame others for personal shortcomings, than face our own darkness. A true person of integrity would seek truth, regardless the cost to ego. There is sound historical record, although often coerced to fit modern agendas, we embark research in areas of psychological interest. We easily blame religion as reasoning for bloodshed. Perhaps the taste of others misery helps us weather our own storms.
Another turned against humanity.
Crossing over to a twilight zone kaleidoscope eyes feast on dreams and circumstance. Do we fail to see what is happening? The world is not going to end tomorrow, as far as i know. But equally frightening is that it could. And not frightening in the sense that life becomes non-existent, but that while we possessed breath, we missed the purpose of earth.
Sometimes death frees more than the person gone. Other times it chains hearts to dreams and wishes. And then there is death that haunts forever. I think our Creator is wrong… love will not save the world. Unless love is no longer required to discipline. Unless love is no longer required to forgive. Unless love is allowed to hate the enemy.
What becomes of a broken heart the forgiving of others the turning away?
Where to begin my story? The ending is quite clear. The present state of affairs is wiped clean and a kinder, gentler, loving world appears. A fairy tale or truth?
If my heart were petaled, once upon a time, one petal was despair, another pain. Then to equalize my experience, a random lock of love would please my mind. This may sound reasonable. But it remains unbearable. Life becomes a game.
My petaled heart cries “He loves me. He loves me.” It can be no other way.
I never carved a word into anything permanent because “What is truth?” anyway
studying love i discovered my blank mind was dangerously close to hypocrisy
i smoked every flavor sank my teeth into sugar rubbed my ailments with alcohol
i brushed bugs off flowers held the leash too tight fought against God
and other people’s entities draped as silver chains and golden idols of mediocrity.
I once made a pile stones stacked as fences stretching for miles
met people who stopped to wonder what energy provoked such nonsense whether we agree or disagree someone will come by and pick up a stone laid gently to stop only to be thrown
Just wonder how you write? This came to me in the past ten minutes. Is it any good? Make any sense? I throw my life into the poetic mix and wonder do my thoughts matter. Why matter anyway? Just drink my coffee and run. As always, comments are acceptable forms of relating here. Cannot say we wont misunderstand each other. But I will try my hardest to be available. Shalom, Jeanne