a spiritual purpose
living the divine spark

consumed by fire
fire of love.

caught up in decisions
and dreams

being grounded
within attraction

knowing of paths taken
the effort of the road

travelling onward
into the unknown

and living for the moment
unfolding the dream

a way to go
into eternity.

all colours have a reason
written deep in our souls

we will never know the fullness
of intuition in this life

-while all the colours
go about their divine task.

Better to be taciturn
Than babble through a tacky turn
And fail to hear enough to learn
In common conversation

Others may proclaim you shy
Or timid, mousy, terrified
Resist the urge to justify
Your ramble regulation

It doesn’t make you weak or mute
To take a minute to compute
A thought before you contribute
May optimise your speaking

Pause won’t hurt your cause unless
Your words are just a game of chess
To press, suppress, or to impress
Correcting or critiquing

Do you desire a partnership?
A sharing, caring, airing?

Or more of a dictator-grip?
A snaring, scaring, blaring?

Maybe you are silence-scared
Uncomfortable with empty air
And feel it is your job to bare
The sound continuation

Worry not my helpful friend
Your heavy duty at an end
More useful with an ear to lend
       Look kind toward the taciturn
       You may yet find a lot to learn
With still consideration

having choices limited in scope
a kind of premature death
bringing the grave ever close
that so you can peer into it
carrying a great load on your back
weighted down with little choice
as you jump six feet down
a forgotten life in a forgetful world.

stoic is one answer to the coming onslaught
wrapped up inside the fortress walls.
Snow is expected to be especially early
but of course snow has its own timing
-comes at the bidding of someone 'other'
that 'other' can see much farther than I.
Who could claim knowledge enough
-to be master of their circumstances?
surely all knowledge is passing away
leaving faith as the only sanity worthwhile
as you sit within your castle walls
listening to the wind whipping the snow.

scudding faces, fantastical beasts
a sky full of war

realms of blue, win on through
Heavens gate swung wide

the daily sky dance
where eye meets star.