And the forest hugged me, the moss sheltering, the leaves and vines curling and the wild flowers showering me with perfume.
"Welcome back," the forest whispered in my ear," I've missed you."
~Me
I don't feel so good today.
I feel a strange, ancient ache in my soul. An aged feel to my rigid bones that once held the weight of the earth and the sky. Now they wish to rest, to turn to dust. They have endured enough weathering. I feel nostalgic for a life I have never lived, for a life I wish I lived. I suppose I do understand this humane desire. The soul was never meant to stay on the earth. It was meant to rise. And here, now, it is bound to, shackled to this body and inadvertently, to this world,held taut by the unyielding chains of gravity. I yearn for the day I return home. Up there.
I don't feel so good today and that's fine.
~Me
Sunset at sea (details), part II. Painter: Jeanne Rosier Smith.
Your river by the oak tree
has turned molten gold again,
as the glowing orb of light and life surrenders to the sapphire sky.
The cotton clouds float in shy, pink circles
While the rush of the river awakens a memory I had long forgotten,
When this same tree once bore luscious flowers,
Their scent wafting lazily into the cool breeze,
While we sat and reminisced about the possibility of other lives in the universe,
Under the silver moon.
A lot has changed since then.
Since the night we met.
~Me
I made a room for you in my mind.
I was foolish, I thought you were kind.
I never noticed the knife when you came from behind.
Or the chains on my arms that bind,
Or the cloth over my eyes that blinds.
I remember when I lovingly made a room for you in my mind.
I was wrong, you weren't kind
~Me
He said, with wise, young eyes, a single tear almost cascading down his cheek, "Ya ukhti, I cannot sleep. I had to bury my father, then my mother, then my sister." He swallowed hard, "Ya ukhti", his voice trembling, he continues, "Ya ukhti, my toys they bleed, I'm scared I'll have to bury them too."
Wisdom is not bought, wisdom is earned.
And all I loved, I loved alone.
~ Alone by Edgar Allan Poe