That day.
That day when I saw you.
Was the day I found love.

That day when you entered my life.
My luck beginned to change.
Was it a miracle?
Was it planned by God.
I think it was.
That day.
when I first met you.

Across the room  you was notice.
Was it the smile?
That caught my attention.

Was it those eyes?
That got my attention.
That day I came to love you.

Being used to wanting to die,
Being used to wanting to die makes it easier and harder,
Because what if I don't remember what it is like to want to live?

I  walked  past  my  old  house  today
it  had  changed -  new  modern  windows
And  doors.

The  garden  looked  the  same
Although  it  wasn't  as  well  kept  as  I  remembered  it.

I  passed  the  old  Co-op  shop
Where  I  started  work  at  fifteen.
Sadly  it  is  now  an  antique  shop.

I  climbed  Woodbank,  a  steep  hill  in   the  village
The  landscape  had  changed  little
Except  for  a  motorway  cutting  through  it.

The  old  canteen- where  I  used  to  deliver  groceries-
Had  disappeared  without  trace.

Also  the  indoor  tennis  courts  had  gone
Replaced  by  new  bungalows.

Yes,  a  lot  of  changes  have  taken  place
Since  I  left  in  1957.

Keith  Wilson.  Windermere.  UK.  2016.  
      
,  

.

life flows in
odd and beautiful
ways

the divine moving
through the manifesations
experiencing through
each

time comes when
the wisdom
of the creation
seeks
to alter course

indiiferent to the
play, to the events,
it will however
whisper gently,

"a correction is needed
my little manifested one"

deaf to the subtle
requests and warnings,
the ante is upped,
the impetus for correction
is increased

some hear early
& alter course gently

others learn only
under more difficult,
harder ways,
louder ways

circles of hell
on
earth
we wander
we wander

some caught forever
in a circle
some moving in &
out among them

sometimes with ease
sometimes with much
difficulty

sometimes alone
sometimes with
a multitude of support

the end is the same
the course of life
is corrected,
altered.

whether
here & now,

or some next life,
for death does make
the final correction......

die to yourself now
in this life

the little you...
realize you are
so much more than
this
so much more
than what you
think you are

for you ARE only
what you think
you are....

set yourself free
from the thinking mind
find out Who YOU really are...

Who Am I?

blink blink blink

red.
                 *stop
                                        pause.
yellow.
   ­              slow down
                                        calm down.
green.
                 go
                                        move on.

Tragic smiles and detached
frozen shoulders,
moats defending castles made of a billion grains of sand
This rainy season has left you miraculously
dry?  
And for what?
The only points you proved
were those that top the
bitter spikes that lance from your heart.

We drove in no real direction
on a bitter night in late January.
Me in the passenger seat,
him at the wheel.

"You can say anything to me,"
he said,
as I cried softly in my dark
corner of the car.

"I'm feeling anxious about our relationship,"
I whispered,
exhaling words that only knew the insecurities
of my idle mind.

"How so?"
he wondered,
now sounding a bit anxious himself,
pressing down heavier on the pedal.

I worry we will grow  a  p  a  r  t,
not together, as time passes,
because we won't be ready for the same things
at the same time,
and I will become impatient as I wait
for you to do your living and growing.

I shrink into my corner,
feeling too vulnerable.
More tears warm my cheeks,
as I fail to steady my trembling breath.

"I wish I met you later."
A confession I never heard before,
but in hearing now,
felt I always knew was there.

We just kept driving,
away from, and towards,
our uncomfortable truth: We are, and always will be, in different places,
at the same time.