Why BE lost at Sea
Screaming let me BE

You are not alone
On your own

When you fly through Everything
Hear your heart Sing

My Heart Knows
I'm Never Alone.

by Debra Lea Ryan & Life
18.02.2025
☀♥ƸӜƷ✿♬

of birds

this morn

anchor my soul

this day, this life

these sounds of grace


thank you thank you

to feathers and wings

all those who sing

bring in this sun

this light, this

ray of

love

Glory to God in the Highest
Glory to Him the Angels sing
Glory to God in the Highest
Glory to the newborn King

Let Heaven and Earth adore
Let every tongue confess
The moment you've waited for:
The Prince of Peace at rest

Open your home, open your heart
Come find Him where He lay
In the place where it all starts
Rejoice! Salvation has come today

The day of the Lord is upon us
The moment has drawn nigh
See how much He loves on us
Sing Glory to our God most high

Glory to God in the Highest
Glory to Him the Angels sing
Glory to God in the Highest
Glory to the newborn King

Cause it's right where we are
Right where we stand
Right where we are
Until the end
Until the end
Until the end...

High above the valley
Nestled amongst the trees;
There's a memory,
There's a memory.

Shining down from the peaks
In the afterglow of the moon;
There's a memory,
There's a memory.

From the bough an echo whispers
Like the song the swallow sings;
There's a memory,
There's a memory.

On bright & sunny days
I grieve the hardest then;
There's a memory,
There's a memory.

Happy memories

The Ocean with Her Songs and Freedom,
is like a Rose in the Desert Tonight.
The Night with all Her beauteous Wisdom,
is holding the Sky like the Wings of a Kite.
The Moon.......in all its Regal Splendour,
is a Ghost serenading the Dark Skies.
The Clouds are praying for Rain and Thunder.
As Mother Earth moans out hollow Sighs.
I shall wrap, all My Dreams in a White Paper
and carefully tie them, with a Yellow Bow.
Then lay them among the White Lilies,
that lie where the Wild Berries Grow.
Night grows, from the death of the Evening
and carries the Stars beneath Her Wings.
Morning wakes up, to the Dawn of Sunrise 
and Nightingales, are all ready to Sing.

conflict is a woman
I can’t stay faithful to.
She makes a home in my eyes
wrapping herself in the lies that
lay crumpled on silk sheets.
Truth over harmony is the poem
she hums to me
yet
I still run to sing melodies
in the other beds I’ve made.

Until my voice shrivels up,
Until what breaks me is induced to make me,
Until I find gratitude in discomfort,
Until there is a cease to this fuel
cursed to burn forever,
In envy and greed,
Until a salivation is unearthed,
Until the trees dance and harmonize to my broken tune,
Until hope is found,
Until I am not a mere whisper that dies on the tongue,
Until in all hope lost a purpose is found ,
Until I no longer wish to die in solitude,
Until I question the reason to sing this medieval tale,
Until I halt and shatter and melt away,
I must sing this ancient song.