Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Nov 2011 · 1.1k
Pep Talk
STOP!! I tell the Selfs;
The cacophony of voices.
Mine, Yours, His, Hers;
Who to obey & Who to deny?

Stop the Spirits of Past, Present, Future,
All accounted for, Loud and Clear!
Ironic lucidity amidst their discord;
Its subtly not lost in the Grand Scheme.

BREATHE!!  I tell My Self;
Inhale the moment of truth,
Until the volume of Knowledge
All but bursts with its Clarity!

Breathe in the your lost Honesty,
Exhale pure veracity in the debut:  
Awareness of Self, Soul, & Spirit;
Blunt in the Beauty and Brutality!

REMEMBER!! I remind My Self,
This very moment has Significance;
This very breath, this blink of an eye,
It’s Relevance to you is Now!

Remember the Person before you;
Your paths have crossed for a reason!
Their existence is pertinent to yours;
Only time revealing how and why.

BELIEVE!!  I demand My Self,
In the inner girl, unsure of her worth,
Yet always full of unbound faith:
She would be Loved and Needed!

Believe in the inner woman, unsure of her worth,
With unconditional, genuine love to offer
At even the merest hint of sincere acceptance.
If only to forgive her awkward graciousness.

L. A. Armstrong-Houle
April 2nd, 2011
Feb 2011 · 752
Short Story Idea
They dreamed of one another when they were just little children, they just didn’t know who it would be when that dream came true.  Still, they both knew it would, indeed, come true, … Some Day!  They would see the various playmates, best friends, even young lovers, that crossed their path throughout their lives and they would wonder,  “Is this the best friend I have always dreamed of?”.  

The Best Friend of their mutual dreams was the kind that would be the one person in their lives who would be constant, grounded, and solid!  This Best Friend would make them laugh at life, … and at themselves; hold them when they needed a hug; be patient with them when they weren’t quite themselves; encourage their dreams, their hopes, their prayers; be their sounding board when trying to figure out Life.  But most importantly, their dream Best Friend would accept them and allow them to be the equivalent of such a Best Friend and to return -in kind- such an honor to this unknown person, … this Unknown dream come true.

Life lead them in different directions, affording them both their own individual experiences that would offer valuable lessons of Life, if they would just not let go of their dream!  It wasn’t always easy, but they knew it would be worth it, they just had to Believe!  So through trials and triumphs, catastrophes and celebrations, and solitude and solidarity, they became who the other one dreamed of, … who the other one needed.  They became known to their Selves, obtaining a sense of clarity in who they are, what they need, what they desire, resulting in the perfect dream of a Best Friend for the other.  

As they met, finally, a half of a lifetime later, they saw in each other’s eyes the reflection of themselves at age 5, dreaming of the Best Friend who would be their constant.  And in each other’s hearts, they saw the answer to that dream.
Any positive feedback on how to spin this into a short story (..or a long one?), I am all ears!  Just be kind and respectful, please.  Thank you.
Jan 2011 · 1.0k
The Gift of the Redwoods
Lori Armstrong
August 1998


Standing tall and silent, like the Sentinel guards of the Forest,
They appear to be listening to Words of Wisdom from an
Unseen, wise, and wonderful Mentor.

They respond in a shy, childlike, gleeful laughter,
Which is Felt, more than heard, by the passerby.
Happy with the whispered answer,
They slowly start to move in a Graceful rhythm,
A sweet and enchanting Dance.

Their outstretched arms surround each other,
Presenting the massive creation of a joy-filled group hug,
A bond of Camaraderie is their own as they sway back and forth in Unison.

Like children playing the game, “I’ve got a secret”,
They seem to simultaneously hide the Mysteries throughout history,
Yet, unwittingly revealing every Moment in Time
They have ever witnessed just by their Presence.

If they could speak, what would they Speak of?
Would we Understand?
Would we Listen?

If they could cry, how deep would their Tears flow?
Do they cry and we are just not ready to Hear?
Would we wipe their tears? … Or cry with them?
Could we truly feel their Sadness? …Their joy?

Could we share in their Trials and their Triumphs?
Do we dare try, for could we endure what they have Endured?

Would we sing along to their Songs of Yore?
Would we understand the Passion in their Words?
Could we carry the Harmony, …
Feeling the Peaks and Valleys of the expressions in their Music?

Their wisdom in age is Unfathomable.

Their vulnerability to man is Reprehensible.
Yet, unfortunately, Comprehensible.

Their story is one of Peace, Love, War, and Chaos, …

But still so Silent to so many.

Their grandeur is taken for Granted, …
And yes, even Exploited.

Their majestic silence is Comforting, appreciated Individually for their gift,
Solitary in the meaning to the receiver.

Breathtaking is their Beauty.

Admirable is their Resiliency.

Gloriously enthralling is their History.

The Creator’s History.

The History of a Gift.

— The End —