A man left a so-called "good career" to follow his heart, to pursue work that he thought would be fulfilling...
And he bled-out into his art.
The old self, and fear, he set to killing.
Although he was paid far less,
And his finances became a mess...
But a hint of a smile emerged all on its own sometimes
He spent his days with pen in hand and verses in his mind...

The kingdom of heaven is like this:
A sower sowed some seeds,
But the ground looked too rocky,
And the ground appeared too thorny,
But the sower sowed there anyway

And the worries of the world and the lack of rootedness tried to choke out the green growth
But this life is not yet extinguished,
And there's a crack in the pavement through which the narrow chutes are peeking,
And the green apogees are pointing toward the sun.

He who has ears, let him hear.

I wish you all Happy Holidays, a Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah, Happy Kwanzaa, Festivus, Yule etc. Whichever tradition you follow, the heart of the celebration is the same. It's about rebirth (among the other good things like family and compassion and healing), the mystery of new things by some miracle born of old. We're told that we are supposed to be happy, that to not be cheerful this day is miserly and selfish, it's implied that if we aren't feeling perfect then we should fake it for people, that we should fake happiness so our loved ones can be genuinely happy by not seeing our sadness. But this is a hard, sad time for many of us, no matter how hard we try to be hopeful. I wish that I could really believe, rather than just hope, that the old world, the world of xenophobia and hatred, so many acts of violence and horror that I can't even keep track of them all...I wish that I could be sure that the world is being renewed by a higher power. In the face of so much, it may seem that you're just a small person, in a small place, with small problems and small gifts and a small heart, and this whole thing is a worthless gesture. Well, it isn't...this isn't just an accident, we're not just flotsam in a nameless, faceless mass of humanity with no real purpose and no value. Everything matters, and every day we have a chance to make a difference, every day we are given opportunities to be a part of miracles. All of us have the power to reach out and touch another person, to give hope instead of taking it away. There really is a better world out there, and every positive act, every genuine smile, every gentle word and every courageous stand against hatred brings us closer. And finally, a Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night, and if I wake up tomorrow to find that all my appliances have come to life and burst into song and a gaggle of short bearded guys expecting food and talking about some kind of stolen gold and dragons and crap, I may just have to start taking things a little more seriously ;)

Reclaim that which was never taken away.
Seek out that which you have hidden.
Take the spear and drive it deep.

As within
So without
As above
So below

Understand this before all else:
What is right for your soul
Bears little resemblance
To what you expect.

To know thyself is the call
And the paradox.
By seeking the truth of thyself,
You discover the truth of others.

One must ****** your Minotaur,
And kiss Mephistopheles in his rage,
In order to assume your Theseus,
And fill your Faust with purpose.

I'd continue in the same vein if I weren't drunk and tired and simply out of patience. Essentially what I'm saying in a poor imitation of alchemical allegory is that the worlds outside of ourselves are bound to the worlds within.

(A message to my self when things get bad)

Arise boy, arise and remember this
   no one will remember your bravery

No one will remember your hope
    Or your sacrifices
Or the nights you spent hunting
     For whatever may fill the hole
      right through the middle of you.

You don't do it for the accolades,
   and you don't wrestle with your
   Minotaur for your parent's approval (as if you could ever gain it)

The chips fell as they did, because you can take it. You live under fire, because you can take it.

You give all you have....because they need it.

She said to me, that first night,
"You've been touched, deeply.
But in all the worst places."

These supposedly small things,
Nights when the deep wrong
that we have been fed upon,
falls away and all is well.

These supposedly small things,
these lovely people,
this living for the moment.

I live for them.

What it must be like,
To cling to a hope so savagely
That all doubt is swept aside.

I begrudge the women I've loved,
This hope in ****** men,
This belief in miracles.

I wish that they'd believe in me
one day.
But then, I am indeed
Someone else's dying need.