I lived happily,

comfortably in the blue --


big egg of heaven.

Thresholds are good
and necessary
Setting a boundary
Not too low
Not too high
Just the right level - enough
to warn me
to give me pause
to prompt questions
to seek answers
before I step forward
instead of bowling past,
passing through, regardless

Pain thresholds are good
and necessary
Setting a boundary
Too high and you'll burn, oblivious
Too low and you'll freeze
in place, never crossing over
into fuller life

Thresholds are good

I must placate mum

and dad when they are fighting --


I'm not there myself.

At night, full trains standing still
between the erigeron
The grass **** wobbles a bit

The water sighs
little waves over the railway
Geese splash around

Bye Atlantis
Bye floating gardens
Thank you, all the best

We're flying out
the earth is open
Where to, where to?

Rombom, the sun will come
Zirconium sparkles, colours
expectation everywhere

It paints our desire
promises us love and happiness
- a fabulastic home

People -
so many bodies…

Some seem to engage
for but a moment, of course,
before bustling past on hot sidewalks,
with varied smidgens of mind and heart;
collections of vibrating chemistry,
moving to specific oscillations.

How to make sense of it all?
We can be drawn to warm embers,
avoid icy slaps on our cheeks reddening.
Grey shapes pass us by, hardly registering a blip -
are they nothing more than the flotsam of flailing limbs
echoing our own caustic needs and wants pending?

Yet we all want much the same things in life:
to be noticed with kindness by the benign,
safe from the razor-blade elements,
find our slot in life that counts,
and leave something good
for posterity, if it comes…

For dots of humanity
of which we are a part,
in some fashion or another,
keep floating giddily past us…
Are they up for what will come
with stoic resistance, or neglect?

Do they expect some dystopia
and the terrors of a dark night?
Ask the fretting little children,
who can’t sleep for their fright!
They too need a river of peace ~
the Promise to be fulfilled

made by One wiser
than all else…

~~

If I can so easily see (and so deeply love)

both sides of your multifaced self, don't you think
you also can start at least try seeing  and loving
yourself as equally beautiful (simultaneously, so) parts,
who's congruent sum so beautifully make within you,
  the whole?

Look at you shoot and scoot (run back and hide)
after never even (until now) having a taste of being seen
(and yes, Babe.. loved) for who it is that you truly are
( a beautifully.. goobery, complex sum of the whole)..
growing,  as you little by little embrace the truth,
and in doing so, have the broken-into-shards ,
tainted perspective within your trauma-stricken mind
become slowly rebuilt  and renewed  

    into an accurate picture of the true you..
Even if that picture is conveyed back to you  
as I hold the mirror's reflection up to you
(a reflection that your beautifully.. at times, open heart
paints upon  innerwall linings of my heart-infused soul)  

and then you admittedly (your beautiful honesty, again)
jet back into your world of daily distractions..
    So I say to you, beautiful girl..

It is you that chose to reveal to me your true self
in a way that I could so easily grasp  within all of who I am
as I struggled to keep myself from truly falling in love
with your gorgeously-blatant honesty..
  so I ask you once again--
Why would you so beautifully choose to  paint
your true self upon the inside of a man
that you knew and believed could actually  convey
the utter and beautiful reality
of that incredible picture back to you:
   but do it in such an unholy, sneaky way
   as to be able to bypass any and all of your intricate,
   security (survival) based defense system
   in a way that the true view of you could (and can)
   actually get through?

You fear the congealed congruency  of the truth
of your own consolidated glory,
   as if you are forced to live within the resignation
   that the  true  parts within you
   cannot co-exist  equally and simultaneously
   within you at the same time,
   without the (feared) unbearable tension
   and anxiety within you

    causing your own spontaneous annihilation.

But still, young Beautiful...
You  showed  me  you,  anyways.

You did not do it because you hate you,
that we can both agree on..
But the manufactured (created) you
has a whole world of relation (its own form of 'connection')
   built around  the you  that feels safe inside
   if the presented image to that world
               remains loved and cherished
But also, good as people that they are..  they find you..
   (you,  who so well emanates a self that congeals
                                with their emanated self).

..So when you enter into a room  
that you can truly breathe (as your true self)  in--
As you prepare to exit its beautiful doors,
you almost have to (temporarily) sever all there is of you
that you have so beautifully and tangibly painted (imprinted)
upon the insides of all of who it is that I am.

You are beautiful within your entirety.
I am not intimated by it,  nor am I threatened
by the possibility of its beautifully shining glory
being 'stolen away' by another. The gift of it all to me
is that you have chosen to reveal your true self to me
   even though you very well  knew
   what it was going to cost you--
   (the stronghold within your manufactured self)
And so now,  here you are--
   shaking and trembling   within the
   unprotected tenderness of your own,  newfound Glory.

You feel it here within these four walls
like you have felt it in no other place on earth,
..So why would you want to betray yourself
by running and hiding back into your detachment?
It is horrifying to be seen and loved like this, I agree..
   But think of this...

What if what is seen and felt (Loved)
within the four walls of this private room
we are in together here,
is the true taste  and pieces of True reality,
and most all outside of this,
only continual extensions of 'the game'.
What if this right here is how life (love)
was truly meant to be experienced  and lived,

and most all other things out there..
just a well-built and contrived (machine) of distraction.

Let your own heart be your guide.  
You can sit and play my guitars
while you unfold so beautifully (as you so well do)
right in front of me. In turn..
and through day after day
of me being there for you like that,
your beautiful war-torn mind will slowly
(and then, quickly) become renewed.

It will all be about (and for) you..
and when you have had your fill,
you can punch me in the nose
for my having a hand  in plunging you
into "the horror" of it all,
   But you truly also for the rest of your life,
   will never be the same.

You are fascinating to me in all of your brilliant-minded,
gorgeousness. You are absolutely beautiful, kid.

This is what is truly real.  This.

Beneath the fair blue face of Heaven, harp
In hand, a shepherd flats an A that's sharp.
He plucks and tunes and finds the perfect pitch
And plays a harmony exceeding rich.
The afternoon is hot, and all the sheep
Are full of grass and falling fast asleep.
Cotton ball clouds go slowly floating by
While drowsy songbirds neither sing nor fly.
Even the shiny fish in waters cool
Nap in the cooler shadows in the pool.
Save for the sound of rills that gently spill,
All things are silent.  Everything is still.
     So too a watchful lion keeping eyes
Upon a ewe lamb dozing where she lies.
As still as stone he stalks his sleepy prey:
He's waited patiently the livelong day.
And now the time has come to work his plan,
While most at ease is bird and beast and man.
He takes the first small steps in his approach,
Then breaks into a run and makes the poach.
Bewildered sheep in panic loudly bleat—
Asleep to wide awake in one heartbeat!
The shepherd's senses rush, and running down
The brute, he smites the beast upon his crown.
Dazed and confused, the lion drops the lamb
That lives but by the grace of Him, I AM.
The shepherd grabs the lion's beard, and, hair
In hand, he slays him (as he'll slay a bear.)  
     Returning safe the lamb unto the flock,
The shepherd goes and stands upon a rock.
He lifts his hands to God, and, singing psalms
Of praise, he gives the LORD his weather'd palms.
Cotton ball clouds go slowly floating by
As stars begin to twinkle in the sky.

Fasten seat belt while seated.
Life vest under your seat
Put your mask properly fitted
Take off only when you drink or eat

Oxygen masks drop
In case of emergency
Put your vest on
But inflation-free.

Be mindful of the exits
Which could be behind you.
Enjoy the flight.
Just safety reminders for you.