of the souls that lay down
to become our sustenance…
of the lives that fulfill our need.
all that ‘is’ has a soul.
animals, plants, water, trees, and stones.
each has their own crucifixion,
their dreams, their destiny, and their gifts.
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i get so tired
about suffering….but everywhere i look,all around me,people are hurting….and try as i might,i cant close my eyes,cant shut my ears upto the sounds of need and want.and i cannot be silentas long as there’s one personwho is not free,one person whose rightshave been violated….one person who is hungry,one person who is homeless,one person sick who…
if i were a woman,
one who listens, is kind,one who is honest…one who is sensual, spiritual,one who questions…one who is as good at changing a diaperas plowing a garden…one who reads extensively…one who enjoys long walks in the rain,quiet conversations in a corner booth,would rather make love by candlelightthan go out on the town…one who stands firm in his…
i think sometimes it takes trainwrecks,
who we are, what we are, and what we’ve become.and i’ve had more than my share of trainwrecks….often we bring them on ourselves, but sometimeswe have help…it is the nature of life now that we get used, abused,betrayed, and tormented….it makes one wonder howmuch of that goes on inside us…for the real battle is always…
holding autumn’s leaf in your hands,
have melted, into brown in time grownbrittle…and so i hold your hand, without graspingso hard as if to lose, yet knowing yourhand… every nuance, every mile, everydestiny come and gone… feeling everytrace of living as if a prayer…listening to your hand as if to a hymn…your hand and mine, we rock… the wind blowsin perfect…
when we kill,
we bear the markof Cain…and wear the resultsof our actions!whether we killwith guns and bombs,or by the greedof our actions,and our very lifestyles.we are guilty!if it leaves a bad taste,we shouldnt have eaten it!
be still!
conceive universesout of particles of dust,walks within you.can you feel the ebband flow of the tide?listen! you can hearvoices binding darknessand light….are they not merely echoesof the living writtenand etched into your memory?what you call windis only the breath of God….what you call rain, Her tears…the empty place that’s alwaysbeen hidden in your heart…is only…