multi path a breath
all travelers are welcome

The Purple People come in many sizes, from small to extra-large – some are quiet and smiley, while others are louder and chatty.  What they have in common, apart from the obvious distinctive pigment, is a welcoming demeanour that makes you feel that you have perhaps met them before or that you would like to meet them again.
I first met a Purple Person as I climbed the steps, looking for reassurance that I wasn’t late and that I wouldn’t stand out too much in my nervous newness.  I’m not sure what it was about their purpleness, but I felt one step closer to acceptance as I walked into the warm.
I saw the matching purple banners and smiled at the attention to detail and the attention given to me which, while practiced, was far from forced and held a genuine purpleness.
I met other Purple People at intervals, each with the purple family likeness of a smile, even though their heritage varied in shade.  The further I walked, the more I relaxed and found that some of the Purple People weren’t wearing the signature purple tee shirts, but it was clear they came from the same palette because their welcome carried the same purple weight and the same authentic purpleness.
This shouldn’t have been surprising, as I soon discovered that they each bore the same purple family likeness of the Purple King who welcomes everyone.

The sound of the ending cue.
It’s colored in a grey hue.

No battle left to bellow.
Footsteps that use to echo.

Words that have already been spoke.
All that tears that have already soaked.

A surrender to the closing.
No longer are we apposing.

A welcome to the end.
There is nothing left to mend.

I feel inspired.
Inspired to write about the man in line who I do not know, but I do know.
Friends, strangers, & self.
So well acquainted as a seamless stich.
I smile.
Hand touches arm.
The endearing laugh of an unfamiliar sound, but I hear you so well.
Faces around turned and gauged in.
Gravitation pull, loneliness lost in the open.
Closed by the proximity of our spaces colliding.  
Today, a stranger saved me at the sound of hello.

We know how much you mean to us
Do you ?
or does it hurt to the touch
or anger you up when you think to receive it ?

Let it not be a human love to be made real and welcome
seek again, but for the love that's found hidden
in the proof behind the pain where we be warming up
to who you really are beyond it all

This house is made of ice.
A gelid, brass interior awaits me with wicked vice.

Stepping through the frozen doors,
I fall into my own homely grave.
A familiar capsule with silky floors.

Paintings hang upon each wall,
Lifeless and disturbed.
Although, the images do utter one final whisper before tightening the noose—
“Beware of the abominable master of abuse.”

I wish to float,
As with each step the rivers of blood in my feet howl.
Icicles pierce through my soles;
Daggers with a bright smile...

I am only ever welcomed into this house of ice
With a vast iniquitous price.

DARKEN HEART*

A gloomy heart can emit evil device,
A darken mind can shut  godly advice,
We can not rise above the boundaries of our hearts,
Our mindset becomes the reasons for our acts.

When our mind is bonded with viciousness,
We will lack peace and happiness,
We will walk our ways without brightness,
And our hearts will dealign from our consciousness.

In darkness our lives lacks resolution,
And it will wave our thoughts to suspension,
We may even traverse  to an anonymous destination,
Which can sink us into the pool of depression.

Our key to knowledge is in our brightness,
But how can we find it in darkness?
Our thoughts have darken our counsel,
We must come to light until we excel.

Darkness has created vacuum for suffering,
And it has left us behind without resolving,
Then we realized we reside in peril and destruction,
And the steps we have taken have caused so much confusion.