Where was white rabbit ?

The girl that breathes Canal street's Spanish moss and dances to Zydeco

I fumbled , tripped on the goal line
all tangled in thorns

Now charged to walk late night's on Jubilee

The fog plays tricks behind facades of listless taunts of truth

I gaze through haze but swirls of vapor twist the thoughts

***** , blues , voodoo , jazz and you ,
my white rabbit

Last intensive, last counselling lecture, last semester, last chaplaincy subject…
Last—
This won’t last, soon it will be in the past, right now I can’t wait for it to fly fast,
But I’m sure, sometime, in the not to near future,
I will look back with forlorn, how could it go so fast?
The future looms,
I need to zoom out, hold the prospects lightly, noticing how they feel…
I feel!
Exciting, overwhelming, the usual anxiety-producing sensations.
Could there be another way to feel about the future?
Could there be faith in the unfathomable, not too distant future?
Could the unknown become my friend, inviting me to see new possibilities?
Welcoming risks for pure bliss?
From this vantage point, it has flown,
But I know there have been times when it just felt slow, and my spirit groaned.
So, can I sit here, in the now, embrace the future full of confidence?
I am here now!
Four years ago the challenge loomed,
Felt like carrying bricks up Mount Everest: impossible.
But here I am. I am here.
Celebrate, clap and cheer
the impossibility is thus so near.
It whispers: come closer, lean in, don’t be afraid, peer…

How much do heavy thoughts weigh ?
Just enough to crush you
Just enough to squeeze you through the unforgiving sewer grates of life
They roll over you like a high rise pick-up truck on a drunken Saturday night
See those possum eyes open wide before splat
How much do you really think ?
Perhaps as much as thirty pieces of silver or your brothers keeper .
How much do heavy thoughts oppress you ?
Subdue you ?
Demean you ?
Demote you ?
Destroy you ?
Deport you ?

Only God knows and he's not saying .

There is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so
William Shakespeare

It is all about perspective and that is key to heart
Shiny blade of cutting edge, do you **** or butter
pray tell, OH, Sitting knife !    
Shall I use my quill and write about you as you are  
or spin a yarn regarding you, telling tales to see how far ?
Should I stretch my wenden shades of rose for you,
or strive to see thy point of view !  

Interpret me with candor and honesty dear mate,
and please remember this ...
If you hold me to the sun, I will reflect thy shine  
if you hold me to the dark, all ignorance be thine !    
Perception is key for all of truth's reveal        
so may thine eyes be set in truth and see the good in me.      
Make haste, adjust thy lens, ... take me to a place of love.

By: Mystic Rose

I waited so patiently for years
Could drown in all the sorrows and tears
Used to flush out my poor heart
But still I waited...
Like a wife that sends her husband off to war
because I knew you were fighting off demons
Things that I could not see
It's not like the darkness ever evaded me
You never returned from that war
I was left to fend off my darkness alone
Shouldering life tragedies on my own
But even then I waited...
Even though some days
There wasn't even any hope
And yet I still waited...
I waited though totally exhausted
I began to chafe at all the waiting;
Patiently,
I sent out my light once again
Like only a lighthouse does
To help you find your way back
Amongst all the turmoil and shadow
All these things I then came to know
Your love could be reawakened to grow
and where I had waited so patiently
You and that love did return to me
and my patience was finally set free

My eyes, throbbing with agony,
bore through the window,  
desperately seeking the freedom of sky.  

To my surprise the crabapple tree  
possessed joyous magenta flowers,  
providing an unexpected  
jubilant assault of my mind.  

Lush leafy erratic branches,  
a turmoil of spring beauty  
stood in striking empathy of my silent cries.  

The afternoon sun pales the majesty of magenta.
As only love can pale agony.  
Memories live forever, is a haunting horrible lie.  
Unlike me, those magenta flowers don't need a why....

My love for her will never die.  
The majesty of those magenta flowers,  
if only for a moment, seizes and saves me deep inside.

When the storm is upon us,
We have no fair-weather friends.

I ate all the stars last night
every single one
Then I had a comet cone for dessert
Now I have starburn
and I'm burping up rays of light
that sunburn my throat

The comet cone was too sugary
So I let it spew away
Now I have to learn
all the new constellations
And of course
it's all Confucius