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Forest Mar 2017
As the man's spiral nears it's end...The God's conspired...

"(look!) He calls out his demons." Spoke Brahma
"And seeks them, from within.
He has begun to remove the blindfold,
He is ready to begin."

"Still a long way to go." whispered Shiva
"He'll make it" Aphrodite said
"If he survives the dark night,
If he chooses love instead."

"Indeed he is awakening." Spoke The Buddha
"Though Fear has poisoned his heart,
He sees through the illusion.
And that is when it starts."

"And not a precious moment too soon." Said Odin
"Not many tricks left up his sleeve."
"Yet he held close the only one that matters," reminded Indra
"Look close...He still believes."

"So Great spirit...bring your thunder,
Vishnu, bring your truth,
Jesus, bring your courage,
And let's see what he can do."
Forest Mar 2017
Life, such a splendid puzzle,
It's brilliant design never ceases.
Our dreams provide the game,
And fate provides the pieces.
And I dream..
And in my dreams I am lost,
Seeking a refuge I cannot find.
I awaken with a strange emptiness,
And then she..Comes to mind.
And then I see it..
I see through her brush strokes,
What in my words she can feel.
Through lessons of life, love, and loss,
Like stars..We collide, and heal.
And we connect..
Like branches of the same tree..We connect,
Reaching out toward the endless sky.
Joined by roots born of wonder,
The sun shines love, and passes by.
And I yearn..
Like a broken swan that yearns to fly,
Who's dream is but a feather.
Like an empty, barren, forgotten sky,
Who's dream is but the weather.
And together..
With my battered sails and her wounded love..
We float this sea together.
Connected by the sweet, awful Grace,
Of clever God's that just knew better.
And I hear it..
I hear it calling..
Like the shore calls out the sea
A life spent clumsily chasing the tides..
Now the tides..They chase me.
And it's coming..
Like a band of wild haired stallion's, it's coming
Chasing sweetly the dark of night
Stars beaming overhead so brightly
Not a troubled cloud in sight.
And so I wait..
As the lone wolf waits on the moon,
To light gently, the path of its roam
As the loon cries beautifully in the night for its beloved..
I wait for her to come home.
Forest Mar 2017
If to the ground I go slipping
Please take your hand away
For it is I that did the tripping
So it is here that I must stay

But keep near me old friend
For this might become that day
That I earn my right to ascend
And begin to find my way

— The End —