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 Nov 2017 harlon rivers
Cinzia
These words don't belong to you
or me

They come from down deep
From the low guttural rumblings
Of our sleeping planet

They come on the wind
as it flies into your ears and eyes
forcing you to take that deep breath: inspire

They come, gently, from the trees
whispering the song of the season
as you stroll beneath their branches

They come from the heart
as it pumps blood through us tenuously, with a rhythmic beat

They come from the stardust
of a thousand dreamy worlds
drifting slowly through the universe
and out the tips of our pens
Heaven is held in the reflection
of the eyes of children at play
in green fields of wonder
and skies of dream
of love and imagination
free of worry or care

as simple as a wildflower
the kiss of a honey bee
woken by the morning sun
the hour of eternity
singing from a grain of sand
and the last breath
of a golden leaf dying
in the gentle wind

something lost to the moment
and something found
in a mind lost
and love gone mad
so that the mad
can fall in love

and somewhere the gods laugh
and man forgets who invented sin
and we all play as children lost
in fields and skies
of dreams and wonder
of love and imagination

and the stars can fall
from the sky and rest
for we need no longer pray
to heaven up above
when we find its been living
in our hearts all along
I have lost myself. At some point I’ve forgotten who I was becoming, letting my Self slip through my finger tips where my essence once did reside. My childlike curiosity seems to have faded away with the castle-like clouds… it has changed its shape, again and again. Morphing from one creature to another, unconsciously, without my permission. This has been me for some time - a chameleon; changing with the backdrops strolling across this stage we call life. Folding my slices of thoughts into clichés of paper mache … fly away little crane, fly away… I have been the bystander of myself. All along, standing beside my Self. I am there though, just blind.. maybe even deaf and mute sometimes, but I am there.. I am here.. I simply just am. Though, as complex as I may make it, it is simple: to just be. This is what I have forgotten. This is what most of us have forgotten. I am realizing this more, as more Suns rise and more Moons fall, that nothing else really matters. These shadows casted upon us all, they do not exist. They cannot exist. Dark cannot exist when there is light.. and light is what we are. Unless there is a brick wall blocking our light, forcing its shadowing umbrella onto our hopes and dreams. But light is what I am, and dim I will no longer be. So today I start by opening a window for my shine, so tomorrow I can open the door, letting more of my light to leak. So soon I can walk through that doorway, one step at a time, further and further away from this dark shadowy wall until it disappears behind the horizon forever. Until finally, I am my true Self shinning vibrantly as the Sun does, becoming who we’re all meant to be - found and free.
A little journaling from my innards haha.. really just writing honestly and vulnerably without looking back.
She used to lick
my hip bones as if they created a special taste
specifically for the tip of tongue  
sides of me would squirm while she danced rhythmically above
sunlight was made from the strands of her
dripping hair
I would perk my lips
gesturing my existence to the sound
of her fluttering lungs
at each giggle  
patches of grass tickled below my back
small specks of clouds
planes racing from the ground
I felt her voice
in the coils of
percolating vowels
safe precocious sounds.
at night
it manifests
this dream of mine
to write my world
my hopes, my decline
and rise again to fall
it to this pit of words,
to break this wall
that lies betwixt us,
your world...
so different to the one
i inhabit.
these words like songlines,
leylines for you to follow
down into the depths
down past the dressings
into the magma
into......
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