On your lips
I taste wonder.
Show me
Everywhere you have been
In the language of
The soul,
For we both know this
When
All else
Cannot be translated;
The soul speaks it all
And smiles in comprehension
Knowing.
On your lips
I taste wonder.
Show me
Everywhere you have been
In the language of
The soul,
For we both know this
When
All else
Cannot be translated;
The soul speaks it all
And smiles in comprehension
Knowing.
She told you she would not cry when you
Walked away.
She lied.
She shut the gate behind herself in the
Garden
So you could not see
Her trembling steps;
Her trembling lips.
Her singing voice hid her sorrow.
You never learned her anyway.
Perhaps she will not open to trust
This lifetime.
Perhaps it is so,
But you will not know for your soul has
Agreed to move on.
My lovely friend,
Step outside
And howl at the moon
If you need to.
Stop holding back.
Stop fighting what every single
Cell in your creation is
Calling you to be.
To love
To dance
To sing
To run
To lie by the ocean
And fill yourself with the power
Of rolling thunder.
Your soul knows.
Your heart knows.
Set yourself free
And your mind will follow.
In the sweet embrace of all of you,
There you will be complete
And you will find
Universes yet to be
Explored.
*originally published march, 2014 @choleintodiamonds*
Great tress manicured;
Cut and shaped to fit lest they overgrow
Space allotted them.
Aesthetically pleasant.
Cut the branch,
Rake the leaves.
Make it look like they never let go a mess to
Shed
The old and become
Stronger and taller.
Invisible cages even for them,
The mighty oaks.
Still they keep straining to grow to their full potential so naturally;
Roots creeping underneath us all as we go
About this and that.
This and that.
The air is chilly now and I am wishing I had
Thrown on a sweatshirt.
I
Lay down in the ground on my belly
And prop my chin up on my hands.
The evening sun is getting lower and I love
To watch as light filters through all of the different petals and leaves.
If I squint my eyes it looks like millions of stars
Are resting amongst the flowers just like me.
Came back to these old streets,
The path feels so natural beneath my feet.
Broken doorways,
They whisper my name.
They know me from before.
Now condemned;
Boarded windows
And graffiti walls.
No going back to
How it was.
Boards creak and walls speak.
They tell me,
“Move on little girl.
We loved you then,
We love you still.
Best be moving on.
Move along.
The ghosts who called you back
Be long gone.
There only remains residual
Energy of things turned to ash
Blowing now
In the wind.
Head East, or North
South or West.
It is best you move along.”
Lone night;
Wolf howls.
It is you I hear.
The sky is wide
And echoes deep
The longing underneath.
She stood staring at the monument,
Her mind taken back
To then.
Was that the same wind blowing through her hair
That blew
On a day so very long ago?
Has it just been traveling the world;
Been out there somewhere waiting to hear her heart beat again?
Now she was
Afraid to turn around.
Not ready to leave,
Fearful the tears would fall
And a passerby would stare.
They would most likely
Assume she must be drunk or out of her mind.
No, she teetered on the edge and almost plunged
But
She was
Simply sad.
Just plain sad. People do not like to see that
Sadness.
Tears.
The Ravens are busy telling stories
Outside my window.
They have the most recognizable voices.
The sweet, sweet smell of clover
And the melody of the bees working so
Diligently as I walk through the fields.
(I remember how afraid i once was of the bees)
This song of the wind
Brings harmony to my carefully
Placed bare footsteps kissing the
Soil.
I do not wish to crush anyone
Or anything.
No longer seeking.
What is, is.
I am the stillness, the stillness is me.
Unfathomed thoughts
As i sit in the moss and
Get lost in
All that is
Flowing, flowing
Through me.
No space, no time.
Endless breath submergence.
Unbend.