Her palm was a guide
lightning bugs stitched in the stars
Do not fear tomorrow
for tomorrow will never come
do not fear the past
for the past is already done
do not cry for approval
for approval gives no bread
do not weep for the dying
instead laugh with the dead
follow the path of gravestones
decorated with gold
follow the dark and the light
to see which one takes hold
listen to the bird call
follow the raven's trail
listen to the wolf howl
watch him shake his tail
run as fast as we can
back to where it began
My falling out with the Cartographer was not absolute.
Though it's easy to notice when the deep gravity of the Universe,
has been reduced to the mundane whispers of the ordinary.
The strength of loyalty is tested in these blind walks of faith.
As the world unfolds beneath my feet, the mind too does wander.
Hidden worlds vibrate between reality and fiction.
I map this microcosm of the known, to reach the ever after.
And so it goes that in my purposeful aimlessness, I'll find the road back.
Every excuse will always be, but letting go will set me free.
Free to once again entangle creation's creativity.
is such a foreign zone,
a land that I can't
spot on any map,
people tell me it has
and i tell them,
please take me
to the mother
I had never known.
for those beautiful connections
for those incredible people
we're always keeping an eye out
a criteria treasure map
searching only for overlap
who doesn't love a venn diagram!?
Intelligence is like a compass, in that it allows you to go a specific direction but is only useful in the context of the wilderness that you stand within. Without knowing where you are and where you are going, a compass will only help you stay the course towards an unknown destination. Wisdom is the map upon which the compass lies, that which gives sustained direction the context it needs to ensure the intended destination is reached.
The mouth is the small compass of the soul,
Without dials, true north, or magnetic force,
The ungaugeable instrument of the voice,
In directionless modulations of undertow,
To circumnavigate under cartographer’s pole
Stars guide our wayfinding-heirlooms of words.
Blind date with a blind map,
oh Lord, where are my fingers running?
Are they again seeking out your heart?
For your body remains invisible
on uncharted lands
as your absence taking shape.
Godspeed with the Hand of Fate,
while mapping on the surface of this paper
for guiding me safe waters,
watching out the tides
while leaving nowhere
I reach you ashore,
"Geborgenheit" is the word;
safe & sound.
In these trees theres gotta be something
You cant hide a tree in a forest
I guarantee I will find it
I will find it
in my search