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Searching For Balance**

In all my journeys
I have looked for balance,
the life forces that make sense
of a world gone mad.
These ripped jeans,
faded flannel shirt
and worn out moccasins
remind me
of dusty country roads
and deep forest green
lost to barren,
colorless wasteland
and seas where
whales have forgotten their songs.

Along this path,
I have looked into countless faces,
seen hollow eyes,
empty souls of meaning,
and unfocused meandering.
My animal spirits,
wolf, owl and hawk
talk to me of defeat.
“We are a lost,
defeated tribe.
Here, but hardly alive.”

So I continue this search
for understanding
balance
often waking from dreams
thinking I will still find your
warmth lying beside me
in my bed roll of desire,
your gentle, open smile
caressing through my hair
in long ago memories
cascading down my heart.

These worn out moccasins
no longer know which way to go.
They climb me mountains
where there is the bitter taste of snow,
down into valleys of unknown,
flowing me down rivers,
over their tall waterfalls
and into the deltas
of dead seas.

In all my journeys
I sought balance
in the world around me
and in my heart.
My spirit animals are right,
everywhere wasteland,
a tribe defeated
here, but not alive.
No balance in my heart
just the empty ache
of missing you-
your warmth,
your gentle touch,
your kiss.

Aztec Warrior/redzone 8.28.16
....thanks for reading
the music link is Moby's "Find My Baby"
https://youtu.be/Ep3I7gf8h58
With a new honesty,
  I began to write

As the fog was cleared,
  liberating my sight

From lies and confusion,
  the wrongs became right

My days now lengthened,
—turning darkness to light

(Villanova Pennsylvania: September, 2016)
My words and my poems
Are no more than explanations
And embellishments
My means of expression
For my life is my "art"
It's what I am and what I write
It's why I need to write
To make sense of the things
I've seen and done
And there are times when
I think I've done far too much
Then, in deep contemplation
I realise I could have done more
And that kind of inner debate
And discussion with myself
Are a large part of my life
Which becomes my version
Of something like "art"

                                         By Phil Roberts
~~<○>~~

shadows shed by moonlight
through the plants entwined
creating their own patterns
weaving their designs

blues and purples shimmering
the subtle shades of grey
the lovely dearth of color
unmatched by light of day!

they create a tapestry
of mystery on their looms
the woof and warp of dreamers

the shadows of the moon

~~<○>~~


SoulSurvivor
(C) 9/11/2016
I had a lovely time reading tonight. I wish I could read longer... My time is so limited and precious! I want to read you all! But it is almost midnight here, and I must be going to sleep soon.

HAVE A BEAUTIFUL NIGHT!
HAVE A BEAUTIFUL DAY!
Wherever you are in the world!

~~<○>~~
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