when he kissed
me goodbye
I held on
with tears
in my eyes
and usually
i don't hold
on to no one

Something is about
To happen that
We are not aware of
Our only chance
Is to keep our
Heads low and
Act like we're
Changed men
Because we're
Very close to
The end
We need to be
Okay with mysteries
And the stories
They breed
There will always be
Far more questions
Than there are
Actual answers
In this universe and
We need to be
Ok with that

the answers we seek
are within as the questions
that form in our mind

To take the hero's journey, I left the ordinary world.

Now my heart is wildly pounding because the wolf is at my door.
That tireless executioner craves the very blood therein my veins,
but I set out to defeat it, so I guess I can’t complain.

The wolf is known as “ignorance” - when he’s posing as a sheep.
The most frightening aspect of the wolf is that he has a home - in me.

I find myself both - the hunter and the hunted.
I’m the question and the answer, the cure and the cancer,
the music and the dancer, the magic and the necromancer.

in a room of unimaged beauty
with curtains woven
from threads of unused dreams
and carpets embroidered
by imaginings of crumpled poetry

songs of hope and fantasy
are left unsung
written on blank pages
carefully laid on the piano
whose keys are all black

here is served perfect tea
in exquisite porcelain cups
each place set with polished silver
giving no reflection

the Things That Might Have Been
are the only guests
they appear in their seats
translucent and shimmering
gaining solidity
staring at their perfect tea
in its exquisite porcelain cup

but they do not drink

if two materialize at the same table
they gaze at each other
with pleading eyes
needing with all their fragile existence
an answer

reasons may be exchanged
but not one of them ever
has an answer

they dissolve
hoping to return
for an answer

leaving behind their perfect tea
in its exquisite porcelain cup

pictures from
this new telescope
unveiled
glimpses of
an early universe
in spirals
clusters
and clouds
      of colour
amidst
an ever-changing
luminescent haze
stretched across
the bespeckled
vastness of black;
a cosmic dance
of light
through time
and space
both answering
and posing
countless potentials

even so
it is difficult
not to compare
these images
with what
can be seen
by looking through
a child's kaleidoscope

I remember when I was a child.
My parents would tell me tales.
Of men dealing with demons.
In the crossroads right out of town.

And I remember quietly.
I had walked down that path too.
Not for money, talent, or fame.
I wanted to know what happiness was like.

And I never knew if I got my wish.
It always felt like things went south.
From within the abandoned crosswalks.
I could feel only sad eyes staring me down.

I felt the whispers and warnings.
Every foggy afternoon.
When I'd wish for the man to supposedly appear.
Just for a simple request.

"I only want to be happy and loved."
It seemed to echo into the neverending winter.
But I waited anyway.
I had barely any warmth to spare.

But nothing came and so I left.
And I felt the pity trail behind my back.
As I walked down the path.
That I decided to stroll down.

And my life continued to go down hill.
I am no longer so young.
I have become accustomed to this world.
To all its cruel games.

I have been broken and shattered
Over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over....I have forgetten.
I am tired.

So I came back to the crossroads.
No more warmth left in my body.
I did not come with a wish this time.
Only seeking a question.

"Why did you not grant my wish?"
And I waited again by the trails.
For anybody to appear now.
Anybody who could give me answers.

"What did I do wrong?"
The trees looked at me with misery.
The clouds gave me it's soft tears.
The mist hugged me as tightly as it could.

And from within the forest.
I could hear it's voice at last.
"You did nothing wrong."
I am shattering by the seams.

"I gave you what you asked for."
Then why am I so unhappy.
"Because happiness never lasts."
Am I always going to feel hopeless?

"No."
Then what am I meant to do?
"Nothing."
I don't understand.

"Because happiness will never mean anything without the struggle."

But I am shattered now, practically dust.
"But a phoenix is also reborn from it's ashes."
I no longer carry anymore warmth.
"But a fire can always be rekindled."

Is that all my life will be worth for?
"Life is always a struggle, it is survival."
But it is not what I asked for.
"No one chooses to have it willingly."

Am I meant to live on?
"Certainly you are."
Why? Why am I meant to be here.
"Because you want to."

What If I don't want to be here anymore.
"You have meaning you always will."
I don't understand.
"Your struggle and success to survive is enough to show for it."

And I could see the soot on my feet gather.
That was when the howling stopped.
I stood there still with no answers.
As the sun began to rise.

But I had a gut feeling I would not return to the crossroads again.

-Rain

7/16/2021

If I could speak to you
I’d tell you how special you are
I’d tell you that what makes you cool
Is that I can see the love of Jesus shining

If I could give you counsel
I’d tell you how valuable you are
I’d tell you how infinitely important it is
To wait patiently on God’s will for your life

If I could ask you a question
I’d want an answer from your heart
What is your pressing passion, I’d ask
What drives you, what things do you love?

If I could watch you
I’d want to see you smile
I’d want you to be safe and happy
I’d want to watch you live your dreams

If I weren’t so self-conscious
I’d be confident and encouraging
I’d want to be intentional and inviting
I’d want to be the person I’m meant to be

What does it mean to take a chance?
What does it mean to make a change?
What does it mean to be strange,
and why is it so scary?
"Where should I go? What should I do?"
"How should I know? I'm not you."
So many questions. So little time.
I guess the good thing is,
you get to decide the answers