When I am told that mistakes are beautiful, I laugh
Because they are not.
By definition mistakes are ugly.
Beauty’s name should not be corrupted by that which we regret.
I did not want to kiss him
I did not want to break his heart
I did not want that to be the last time I saw her
I did not want to leave her there.
Mistakes do not give color to life,
They add gray, and dirt, and darkness.
But though they are not beautiful they should not be discarded.
There is a difference between beauty
And that which is worth appreciating.
Without the ugliness we wouldn’t notice
What is gorgeous.
We wouldn’t be able to tell
When we did the exact perfect thing.
And though they are often small, hidden
Amid the endless gray catastrophe of our mistakes
Our perfect moments do come
And they stay with us.
writing is a part of who you are
and though it might be "dormant" for now,
it's still there, waiting, capturing, recording
and filling the beautiful empty spaces
that are open within you to hold all
that will one day flow out of your pen.
keep doing the wondrous things
that you're doing, keep growing
and especially keep knowing
that when the day comes
for you to really write again,
words will flow,
life will open
and make the time "just right to write."
Know that many, many care,
admire and think of you
and send you (((hugs)))
and appreciation from afar
(and one of those many happens to be Me).
You are talented in so very many ways!
Blessings, dear one!
©Pamela Rae 04.30.2017
A breath of fresh air brushed with lavender;
A book that grips and makes one ponder;
An evergreen swaying in the breeze to a silent beat;
The feel of warm beach sand under bare feet;
The sound of sparrows singing in the noonday light;
The space beneath the comforter on a snowy night.
Like each of these simple pleasures,
One of life's exquisite treasures.
Does the universe play favorites
I know it is happy to have me
It is happy for my brother
And for its every single creation
But my god, its smile
When it looks at you
Scientists will never truly know
Why the stars burn
Why galaxies form
Why the universe expands
But I do
And it does
And it was never sorry
Softly child softly
Skitter through the fields to the ruined city
Stand on the outskirts and wonder
Who could have destroyed this?
Who could have torn down these arches?
On tiny feet approach
Tread softly child, softly
Over the red dust
Across the desolate plains
Toward the hint of the fallen city.
Foot falls like gentle rain
Wonder mixing with innocence and love
Skip around the rim
Dance with the choice of stepping where none have
On bold feet; Be courageous..
But curiously, child. Softly
Step inside the bounds
Find its dark destroyed corners, and
marvel at the wear of time
In the epicentre
From which the salt earth extends
A small circle of pearls
Plant a seed
Water it with your tears
Shelter with body and belief
And watch as this seed take
Tend the vines, then
Cultivate the ground with your love
Not in shame
Nor sorrow, despair or anguish at loss
Let the marvel of your hands very creation
Fuel your tears
Weep for the subtle nature
Weep for the one who came before
My beautiful child
As eyes slowly cloud
As memory finally becomes sight
And lungs now strive for air
And be at rest, finally as all things
Its has been day or two
I have been away from all of you.
But trust me, being away helped.
It brought back my appreciation
over little details in life
which I missed for a long while.
I used to stare at phones
waiting and waiting for what I don't recall
But now I am staring into spaces
and the pleasures are surreal!
It made me whole after all..
I wanted nothing
but out of nowhere
I felt I have everything.