Why pursue what we
Cannot keep?

Time takes everything away
Including this body

What time can not sweep away
Is our original nature
The God Self

Even knowing this truth is not enough.. there is still attachment
to that which is impermanent.. including this body..until one is
firmly established in The Self

And so,
That year,
The rain
Had forgotten to fall,

Winter slept-through its season,
It didn't hear Autumn's
Wake-up call.

Winter was oblivious
To the Earth's changing position
With regard to the sun,

This was made completely obvious
When the likes of Spring
Prematurely sprung.

Winter's time
Was well and truly
Over and done,

Winter
Was over
Before it had even begun.


By Lady R.F. (C)2017

This piece is all that's left from my memory,
I accidentally deleted the original poem I had written.
I guess, the poem, as beautiful as it was,
was like that winter, it was over before it even begun!

I hate the feeling when I lose a poem - it's so sad.

If
you
could look
into God's eyes...
You'd find
you are
His greatest
prize
don't believe
the Devil's lies...

don't believe
the Devil's lies

gmw'17

A song I am working on....obviously, a rough draft.

How easy it is to paint people
With one color,
With one broad brush.
Over time the various
Colors on your palette
Swirl together to form globs
Of gray.
And now your monochrome
Judgement renders your world
A bleak, barren desert of ashes.
No longer do you see the world and its
People in its colorful splendor.
Some become acclimated to this dulled
Perception that has taken hold.
A perception that dominates the
Senses and gradually turns the brain
Into gray mush.
Undead they become, starving creatures
With the urge to devour.
To hurt.
No empathy. No compassion. No feeling.

Others, thankfully, know better.
Palettes must be cleansed regularly,
Layers of dried, crusted paint scraped off
With patience.
Then fresh paint is restored.
Fresh perspectives, encounters, and knowledge
Passed down by the models to the artist.
Yes, we are artists.
We paint the world as we deem fit,
Plastering on others one’s own
Values, morals, and ideals.
But the true masters of this craft go beyond,
Discerning the vast spectrum of colors
That compose a human soul.

But that takes time.
Years of experience and keen observation.
But possible.

~

And I go on looking

for the one to touch places never touched before,

a hundred years of loneliness for one day in her arms

(a day in the realm of time another hundred years)

And you go on looking

for the one that holds the other missing part

and will chart all his dreams on a map of your heart

(only part of your dreams as you carry his half)

And we go on looking

never finding roads leading straight to each other

as we share the same sky and walk the same earth

(only twice, once for you and once for me)

our dreams run aground, our rivers run dry

our search for each other, no hello, no goodbye

parallel akin paths never meet one another-

-
H.O
-

“I felt you before I knew of your existence, maybe it was a hint from the universe to continue on the yellow brick road, so when I would find you along my travels I would simply just know.”
― Nikki Rowe

you and i
we'll move on
and forget all of this.

and maybe we'll even
find whatever it was that
we were looking for elsewhere.

and perhaps
we'll understand
why it ended the way it did.

but what we had
was precious and it'll
always exist somewhere.

in dying leaves and
the silences we shared
and maybe, the moon too.

Beautiful green trees
Brighten up miserable sky
With a touch of class

on way home from work I notice how lovely trees brighten up overcast weather :)

Sitting on my balcony
As the dark envelops the lake
Drinking a glass of wine
I forgive everyone their sins.

I dwell alone here,
a prisoner within
my own mind and life,
encumbered in burdensome
shackles of my own invention,
locked restraints of self-delusion
to which solely I possess the keys.

To all of us who sell ourselves
short, who give up too soon,
who hide in self imposed prisons
of the mind.
Life is what we make of it and
thus perhaps what we deserve,
unless we endeavor to change it.

through a square window
big sky and big trees seem small
Then I open door

Observation from a small side window without blind in living room x
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