I'm pupating
Without the privacy of a cocoon
                           Maturing in full view
Shedding skin that thins and softens
                          Throughout the years

      I'll outgrow my body
Due to mortal limitation
       Break free from flesh
Emerge beyond physical

You see,
The first evidence we have
Of anything we could quantify
As being akin to surgery
Are fossil records
Of skulls baring marks
Which indicate tool usage.
These marks from simple holes
Driven into these skulls,
Likely made to try & deal with the mind
Or some ailment of the brain.
Thoughts, "evil spirits."

But, one must ask,
"From where did they get these ideas?"

The woodpecker?
The first surgeon?

"But what of these truths?" Asked Plato of Socrates.

"But what is truth in purest essence?
For what of the material is purely true?
Yet, by the very nature of the immaterial,
What may we ever quantifiably call truth which we ourselves have no alternative way of examining?
In going so far as to ask for an answer, you must already have proof.
What proof is there that there is truth?"
Spoke Socrates.

"Mentor, you ramble."
Spoke Plato.

"Pupil, I rumble!"
Spoke Socrates.

She said,
"I'm looking for someone,
Looking for something."
I asked,
"What is it?"
She replied,
"I can't exactly remember."
I questioned,
"How will you know you've found it?"
She said,
"It's something one can't forget,
Someone never forgotten."
I asked further,
"Well, who is it?"
She said,
"I don't really know,
But I think I've seen them before.
There's an image in my head
And an idea in my mind,
They feel innate to me."
"Are they, though?"
She didn't answer,
"I think if I just do
As my parents have done
And their parents have done,
I'll be all the closer."
I just shook my head and laughed.
"Sorry, I'm not laughing at you.
I just find it funny.
You say you're searching
For something or someone,
And you only have the slightest idea
Of what that is."
"I know, it's a bit silly."
"Why, they could be
Talking to you right now
And you would never know it then!"
"Maybe, maybe not.
I'd like to think
I would recognize it, recognize them."
"Well, you don't think
You're special do you?"
"No more so than anyone else."
"So, how would you know?"
"I guess I just believe,
I have faith in that
Hope shall deliver me.
I try my hardest
To be the best I can be,
I always try to be honest
And act respectfully.
I love with all my heart
And shelter it from nobody."

"Ah, but do you reach?
Do you search your mind
As much as the tangible world?
Perhaps what you're looking for
Can't be found
Without exploring within first.
Perhaps this is the only place
It exists.
Maybe it is a mystery
Confused with fantasy,
Maybe it is a fantasy
Confused with mystery.
Perhaps it can
Only be discovered
By any one individual.
Maybe by elusion,
Made by illusion.
Perhaps it is,
Perhaps it isn't,
Maybe you're just not worthy.
Perhaps you've already eclipsed it."
I had said.
"I'm looking for someone,
Looking for something."
I said.

"What is it?"
She said.
"It's something one can't forget,
Someone never forgotten."
I said.
"Yes, but who remembers?
And what memories?"
She said.
"It's something that can't be held,
But something one must hold.
It's something that can't be told,
But something one must tell.
It's like the melody of a song,
Like the lyrics sung.
It is only as old
As it is young."
I said.
"What is it?"
She said.

"What is it?"

We live in a place somewhere between two worlds
One the physical and one the spiritual
They are separate and distinct
But they can coexist, they can be linked
To be practical and active
And still live contemplative
Living with one foot in the sea and the other on dry land
We fight to maintain equilibrium and meet every demand
So how do we reconcile one with the other?
Is it even possible to do so?
Maybe we don't have to, maybe it's already been done
For a baby born of a ******: God's own precious son
Jesus was of two worlds, and he bridged that divide
Became bread and wine so he could live inside
Let all you do be a prayer, and all your work give him glory
All you say be with love, and all your life lived with joy
This is how we can live in two worlds

Today I have progress on my mind
Of a physical and spiritual nature and kind.
Taking steps to improve my health
Where I am ow is better than where I was.
From day to day or even week to week
I don't notice the progress that I seek.
But when I step back and reassess
It is then that I'm aware of the progress
I'm farther than I was before
But still not where I want to be
Even so, I'm closer and it gives me a thrill
Because I can get there, I know that I will
There are good times and bad times
Sometimes I move forward, sometimes back
But I refocus, recenter, and get back on track
Losing weight, getting stronger
It takes practice, patience, and time
It's tough, but it's always worth the climb
It seems to me that our spiritual life
In many ways runs parallel
To the ways that make us physically well
In our prayers and in our giving
How we're loving, how we're living
Sometimes our faith builds slow
And, sometimes, it quite quickly grows
It's hard to see in the desert place
Where the wind blows hard against your face
The path ahead is very nearly lost
No idea how much distance you've crossed
But the winds die down and the skies clear
Breathe in deep as you are standing here
And through the trials you see
Just how far you've come
And how you came to where you are
You've done so well and worked so hard
Now have some rest and keep making progress

Physical touch pleases me
Not in that way
But in a way that gives comfort to wanna flyaway
Like ballerinas dancing across my skin
I don’t know why but this is the way I’ve been
Your the warmth I crave
I only want to hold you
But it’d be a lie if you wanted too

Hold my cold hand
Run your hands through my hair
Hold me close to the point where you might come to care

But I’m pretty sure you’re well aware
That I’m desperate
I crave physical touch
I’m not asking much
So I hope I can feel your warm touch