There is an animal beneath the skin,
soft-footed and silent.
It does not howl or claw;
it listens,
ears tuned to the pulse
of roots moving underground.

It does not speak our language,
but it hums to the rhythm
of wind slipping through leaves,
to the measured breath of the ocean
meeting the shore.

When you sit still enough,
you can feel it stir:
a gentle shifting in your chest,
a reminder of what you once knew—
the scent of rain before it falls,
the way the earth holds you
even when you forget its name.

It is patient,
this quiet creature,
its heartbeat slow and steady,
a tether to a time
when nothing needed to be said
to be understood.

But it waits,
not for anger,
not for hunger,
but for the moment
when stillness becomes unbearable—
when the weight of silence cracks
and the soft becomes sharp.

One day, it will claw its way free,
not with violence,
but with certainty,
a slow emergence from the dark.

You will feel it rise,
not as a battle,
but as a birth.
It will stand, uncoiling,
and you will find yourself
on your knees,
pressing your face to the ground,
finally remembering
what it means
to belong.

The mountains keep their secrets well—
in their silence, they bear the grief of stone,
the centuries pressed into stillness,
each stratum a tale of what once was
and what shall ever be.
One looks upon them and thinks,
they have never known what it is to fall.
But does one not hear them groan
beneath the weight of themselves,
the way they shift in the night
like old men turning in their slumber?

Each crack in the rock does whisper
of pressures unseen, tectonics
of ancient sorrows long since stilled.
In this, they are alike to us:
holding fast to the unspoken,
wearing their jagged edges
as though they have no need of gentleness.
But hark—does one hear it?

The way the wind grazes their faces,
how even the stone does yield to that
which is so soft it has no name.

We come to them burdened,
bearing the weight of days
like a sack of heavy stones,
each one a moment believed
to be the end of something vital.

We hold them close, believing
they are all we have—
these small griefs that anchor us
to the ground we tread upon.

But the mountains know
what we have not yet learned—
that every stone shall one day
become dust,
every peak worn smooth
by the selfsame wind
that now does caress the face.
We are not less for this,
nor are we more.

We are but the shape
life has taken to know itself,
to feel, in this brief span,
the vastness of what it means
to be.

Consider this:
the stars, too, shall perish,
and yet their light does wander
the corridors of space,
filling the night long after
they have burned themselves out.
We are no different.
What we are now, in this moment
of small sorrow, shall pass.

It is not the end,
but a whisper in the vastness

of what we are yet to become.
So let the mountains speak to us.

Let them tell how even they
must break and bow to time,
how their strength lies not in
holding firm, but in the slow
unfolding of their edges
to the universe's touch.

We are not small,
nor are we infinite.

We are the echo
of all that has ever been
and all that shall ever be.

Listen, and one shall hear
how the mountains weep
not because they are broken,
but because they are becoming.

                                                  And so are we.

In my journey toward embracing compassion as a way of being, I’ve come to understand that the path to selflessness is not about denying myself, but rather expanding my sense of self to include the wellbeing of others. Every moment presents an opportunity to awaken the heart, to lean into discomfort rather than avoid it, and to cultivate a deep empathy that transcends personal interests.

I’ve learned that the practice of compassion involves recognizing the suffering in the world without becoming overwhelmed by it. It’s about training the mind to meet challenges with patience and openness, seeing others’ pain as a reflection of our shared human condition. When I make a commitment to serve others, I am not striving for perfection but rather accepting my own imperfections as part of the learning process.

Through mindful awareness, I realize that my own difficulties and struggles are a gateway to greater understanding and connection. By confronting fear and vulnerability, I begin to soften my heart, not just toward others but toward myself. Compassionate action is not grand gestures but small, consistent choices to live with kindness, equanimity, and courage. It is a practice of being present, attentive, and fully engaged with life as it unfolds.

The key teaching is that real transformation comes not from external achievements or recognition but from the inner work of shifting from self-centeredness to a broader, more inclusive perspective. True freedom arises when I let go of the need to protect my ego and embrace the interconnectedness of all beings, recognizing that my happiness is inextricably tied to the happiness of others.

—

Compassion is seeing what hurts
and staying close anyway.
It’s the hand that helps you up
without asking for thanks.

It doesn’t turn away
when things get hard,
and it doesn’t fix,
just shows up.

It’s the quiet presence
that makes room for pain,
a choice to stand with someone
even when you can’t solve a thing.

Compassion is simply being there;
eyes open, heart open,
willing to share the weight
for as long as it takes.

— Sincerely, Boris

May there be a secret portal ,
old heartbeat of the earth ,
Dreamt Cupid stolen in his
sleep ,
by Darkness unobserved .
☆
Coincidentia
oppositorum ,
Storm Angel and Wild Beast ,
Union of the Devouring Snake
and Lovers of the Chemical Feast .
☆
When time has come full circle
and the tempest calls to
fly ,
we will meet in golden sunset ,
where our hearts are three ,
six , nine .

Eternity shivered ,
trembling at heaven's
radiant golden portal .
☆
Countless crystalline
moments of time
dance , vibrate ecstatic .
☆
Physical objects ,
now less distinct ,
fade to grey simulation .
☆
Gloriously only a
shining path remains ,
Surrender, Devotion and
Pneuma .

Grief is not something one simply “gets over.” It’s a profound and transformative process that we learn to carry with us, reshaping it into wisdom and strength. Through my own experiences; surviving a traumatic childhood, navigating a toxic divorce, losing a best friend, and enduring health battles; I’ve come to realize that grief is best navigated with the support of others, not in isolation.

There are essential needs we must honor when mourning: acknowledging the reality of loss, embracing the pain, and leaning on others to help carry the weight. Grief is not an experience to be rushed or solved, but rather a process of reconciliation; a deep acceptance that transforms us. Pain doesn’t vanish, but with time and support, we learn to live alongside it. I’ve walked this path, understanding that grief becomes a part of us, woven into the fabric of who we are, reshaping our identity.

I’ve been incredibly fortunate to have a circle of friends and family whose love has carried me through the darkest moments. My older sister and twin brother, in particular, have been my constant companions in this journey. They were there during my childhood, when trauma was a silent presence. They stood by me through my divorce, when I questioned my worth as a husband and father. And they held me up through the grief of losing my best friend and the challenges of facing health issues that left me questioning my own mortality.

In my journey as a 41-year-old single father to my beautiful 9-year-old daughter, I’ve come to understand the deep depths of grief and the importance of embracing vulnerability. Grief is not merely an experience to endure but a courageous path toward healing and authenticity. It has taught me that acknowledging our pain allows us to connect more deeply with ourselves and others, paving the way for genuine mourning.

Through my experiences in grieving past relationships, I’ve learned that vulnerability is a strength rather than a weakness. Recently, during a theater outing, my daughter witnessed my tears while watching Wild Robot. On our walk home, she courageously asked me which parts of the movie had affected me the most. We paused on a bench, sharing our feelings and reflecting on the moments that sparked emotion within us. Together, we grieved for the old goose Longneck, honoring his courage and bravery for a few quiet moments.

This experience not only deepened our bond but also illustrated to her that expressing emotions is a natural and valuable part of life. In those moments, I realized that fostering an environment where feelings can be shared freely helps nurture resilience and empathy in her. By embracing our vulnerabilities, we honor our grief and create space for love, connection, and understanding, reminding ourselves that mourning is an integral part of our shared humanity. In navigating my own grief, I hope to guide her in finding the courage to authentically experience her emotions as she grows, assuring her that it’s okay to feel deeply and openly in a world that often encourages the opposite.

What I’ve learned is that grief, in its purest form, is a communal experience. The presence of those who care for us is essential. It’s in their company that I’ve found solace, in their compassion that I’ve discovered the strength to keep moving forward. The relationships that have endured through these hardships have been my lifeline, helping me process not only the pain of loss but also the profound sense of survival and rebirth that follows.

In my support group, I’ve found a space where vulnerability is met with understanding, where shared experiences foster healing. These connections have reminded me that we are not meant to bear the weight of our grief alone. My siblings’ generosity and my friends’ loyalty have allowed me to reshape my pain into something meaningful. Through them, I’ve found the courage to keep walking this path, not in spite of the losses I’ve faced, but because of the love that surrounds me.

Grief may be inevitable, but it is not insurmountable. With time, with patience, and with the unwavering support of those who care for us, we can reconcile our losses and create a new understanding of who we are. In the end, it’s the love we receive that helps us carry the grief; and in that love, we find the strength to continue.

—

It’s as if you’ve spent a lifetime in pursuit, tirelessly honing your craft, only to meet the moment you’ve long awaited; and falter. In that instant, the prize you held so tightly slips through your fingers, drifting out of reach, lost forever.

Every step, every sacrifice, has led you here, only for the dream you chased so relentlessly to dissolve before your eyes. The weight of expectation presses down, and the failure burns deep, rending your heart in waves, relentless in its ache.

But at the end, where defeat seemed inevitable, something unexpected awaits. There, beyond the finish line, stand the ones you love most; cheering, smiling, their eyes bright with pride. Their applause whispers a truth louder than your loss: that second place is but a number. In their eyes, you have always been, and will always be, their champion.

— Sincerely, Boris

Many of my struggles stem not from external forces but from within, from patterns of self-sabotage that I once thought were beyond my control. It’s recently become very clear to me that these moments of inner resistance I have struggled with, these times when I seem to work against my own best interests, are not random. They are my mind and body’s way of protecting me from what feels unfamiliar or too overwhelming to face.

Personal growth, I’ve come to realize, has demanded not only patience but also the courage to confront these barriers inside of me. The obstacles I encounter aren’t meant to be avoided or fought. Rather, they are reminders that within every challenge, there’s an invitation to dig deeper, to look at my doubts, anxieties, and limiting beliefs, and to dismantle them.

This journey of mine is about mastering myself, not in the sense of becoming perfect, but in learning to be compassionate with my flaws, understanding where they come from, and allowing the proper space for my own evolution. I’ve learned that healing and progress come when I stop seeing my emotions as problems to fix and begin seeing them as messages guiding me toward what I truly need.

The transformation comes in the shift from self-sabotage to self-mastery. It requires me to take responsibility, to recognize that I am both the source of my struggles and the architect of my liberation. With this awareness, I can start to rebuild, step by step, by accepting where I am, forgiving myself for past mistakes, and slowly reorienting my life toward what truly aligns with my purpose. Mastery is not control; it is surrender to personal growth.

—

I am the mountain I must climb,
The stone I stumble on is mine.
Not to resist, but to take place,
The path ahead, I must face.

The fear I feel, the doubt I bear,
Are voices calling for self-repair.
In every challenge, a chance to rise,
To meet the truth behind disguise.

The road is long, the path I’ll clear,
With every step I dissolve the fear.
For in each wound, I heal and grow,
My heart learns what the mind can’t know.

— Sincerely, Boris

When you feel the deeper calling,
Something yearning to be expressed.
A definite thing
Felt,
Yet unseen.
Elusive,
Stirring sleep, bringing unrest.

You’ve become shrouded
in years, my friend,
decades even,
of wonder and mastery.
Your noble craft, the role you play,
Has reached its brilliant totality.

Yet beneath the fading light
A gift for others’ lives.
A new reason for being and
Perhaps, It speaks,
my friend,
From nothing
beginning to Rise.

It leaves the body of knowledge-
Your blood, sweat, and tears.
Obsolete,
like gas station receipts
That wallpaper the rooms
Of victory over the years.

What you’ve achieved in life,
Grand and monumental
No Doubt!
Has become, as it should-
Just a shell.
Protecting Divinity within, what was,
and the fragile human without.

So sit, my brother,
With the pain and grief
Of longing.
And hear its funeral song.
For beneath the Melody,
Sweet sorrow brings with it
The birth of how you belong.

At night we  love
the same cold stars ,
cross mind of God
His dream visage .
☆
Though yet to tread
the sacred path ,
the future waits
the hand of Mars .
☆
While every day
is a whole universe ,
Promise and the Owl ,
life , death and rebirth .
☆
The Emperor readies
his justice at hand ,
Reindeer and Lizard
and spirits command .

Enshrined vessel corporeal ,
the numberless strands
of infinite time ,
kaleidoscope persona of
Nature , Temperance and Psyche .
☆
With serene countenance ,
in sweet golden light ,
the codes of the Goddess ,
Queen of Cups
and Queen of Swords .
☆
With transforming Geometry
of Justice and
Compassion ,
the unseen ancient force
of her terrible power ,
far beyond base contemplation ,
☆
Rains down the verdict
on dishonour and strife ,
elevating the
transcended ,
while relegating all else
to Beelzebub , earthbound
and gehenna .