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Hands of Love
Hands of Understanding
Hands of Compassion

Ears that hear
Eyes that understand
A heart of wisdom & knowing

Unwavering & supporting
Without blame
Without shame.
Never a criticism given

You heard me.
You held me.
You helped me
Move through Grief
Toward a measure of Serenity.

My dear love
How could I ever repay you?
When someone we love dies, the saddest thing I have experienced is no one there for support. Maybe they did not know how or were lost in their own processes. It was not until now, at 63, that I have felt this unwavering love and support.
Seanathon 20h
Torn is not unmendable
Youth is not invincible
Just as age is not infoulable
Too old too fast
Too wise too late
But aware at least until the very last
Age Revealed
Rich 3d
The government’s up early in the morning
hours before my dreams said their last words
~~I wiped off the cosmos from my consciousness~~
our leaders are up, digging for mechanical gold
that sweet fuel for the machines and their automated wealth
today, their shovels disrupt Alaskan wildlife refuges
tomorrow, your backyard
but I’m waking up way later, following the sunrise as an unemployed, unashamed, unresolved and un-unified whole, unpredictable, unfitting man with a wallet
full of poems
packed tighter than an Earth with twice our population
yet still writing
without hesitation
still drifting in and out of your perception
in and out of adjacent trains
stumbling over career paths
until I land on my face and look up
wiping the gravel off hazy eyelids to see the road
and then footsteps become moments
which become monuments upon which I build a future unseen
one day,
we will all be free.
Joanna 3d
an old tree stands bare
and alone until seasons
start to rearrange

relationships stall
when people ignore parts of
the puzzle of love

Blossoms appear alone
Butterflies roam free
Rainbows dissolve pain

wisdom and light beams
give hope and understanding
to the one who waits

blood is thicker than
water but love blooms where there
is light to just be
To read more of my writings go to: http://reflectionsoflight7.wixsite.com/home
Though the sift of time may sort
Beyond our comprehension, unseen
We may infer its shape from
Whatever marbles remain
Unbroken, and defying decay

Grains of truth and wit with just enough
Substance and optional glamour
To survive the great mesh of necessity
And bright enough to be cherished
By well nourished seekers of more
Never too dull, lest overlooked
But also
Never too bright to incite fright

Never one of innumerable sand
Washed away with the prints of men
And
Never a fabled relic, stranger to hands
A maze promising truth, yet with no end

The sun brings you warmth
The moon guides your flight
The Needed begs no envy
But relieves your plight

So don't distance yourself from
The thoughts of Old
Still so simple and intimate
As if in voices new

Raise a drink
And warmly cling
Love the great tomes of high above
Not as never reachable untouchable
Shrines of forgotten kings and gods
But as your dearest friend or perhaps
Even as a reunited lover, long separate
By the scarcity of soul pouring words
Reluctantly replaced with fleeting
Musings of often rapidly dissipating
Bland taste
Of fulfillment and disappointment
Never lasting enjoyment

Leaving us with hunger and thirst
For the seasoned fruits of old
That only visits ever so often
But each moment with, spent so
Cherished and with fear of time
Passing, as
A childhood tale, swiftly unfold,
Too briefly told
Left dreaming for once more
Often only to be granted in pages
Wrinkled and stained, shaped
By fate’s mold

Those pals that you’ll ever remember
Those gems that you’ll constantly
Caress over and over again
Those greats of highest degree
Are they so overdressed till envy
Till too heavy, and invites mockery
Are they so kissed by sugar till ****
Unconsumed, banished to rot

They are all soft and familiar
Always with the present
Of the ease to comprehend
As if you know them
All your life

Your Blakes, Shelley's and Shakespeare
Your timeless contemporaries
They never command as gods above
Or hide behind too much whimsy
Always a wise elder, a ***** friend
In sorrow, in passion, in dreams, in fright
Baring the truth like a mother’s wisdom
Or the sure brightness of lone stars at night

Prepare yourself for tomorrow sifts
By sharing the shape of collected past
In essence, not in likeness
For if you dress your soul
To not fall through
In great stones’ cast off dust
When the brush of time greets you
Your disguise will fall off
Lest you waste your growth
On shimmering cloaks
And when judged truly
To be found not as a pearl
But a grain in others’ clothes

Imagine
If you fill the entire night sky with sparks
How will they find the one guiding star
No shadow to hide, to soften the light
Everyman be lost

If you pride yourself bearing golden straws
They will shower you with praising remarks
But when time leaves you behind after dusk
It’ll be dark as you crush

So tread plainly with only what and
All you are
With timid steps, and light feet
And only must in your keep
You’ll go far You’ll go far
Till steady heights beyond the lofty larks

Where children ceaselessly dream
Where children ceaselessly sing
Where Children Forever, we are.
Truth Bares Itself Plain
By: Yidhna Yue Xing ****
Tuesday, October 8, 2019 6:07
Enlightenment isn’t the discovery of the already known.
     No need to illuminate where the sun had already shone.

I. The Roads Endlessly Traveled

The Truth may be hidden and infallible
It can’t be said the same for its roads
For all past voyagers false or true
Will leave marks, endless trails of clues
A path may be closed
Others cut through
Wind and dust, and overgrowth
May cover and obscure a shallow few
And though light footprints oft lose to leaves and dew
We can’t blame them all for us being astray still
        If we stomp out the old
        And naively begin anew
Then we will truly be lost
To unknowingly retrace
Footpath already abandoned and used



II. The Miner and the Gardener

And now there are two ways
One clear path to the garden of reason
Always in the open, clear as day
And
Another a tunnel to either valleys or caves
Ever shrouded behind a gateway obscured
Dark in passion, fright or daze

And there are two travellers
Workers searching for the same

  The one of the tunnel
  Always mines for ore
Dreaming to one day find the sunkissed
Palace

The other of the garden
Constantly gather berries
To fill his insatiable hunger for sweet
Sense and wits

Till now
Both of them have gathered more than
They’ll ever need or use

What pleasant wonder, and departure from this
Tedium  
Could they discover if they would switch places

Would the gardener of sense
Finally have a vessel for his fruits
Unused
To not be sullied
And preserve
For all men and women, and children to enjoy
Always, anytime in any season
From summer days of knowledge
To even wintry days of reason

Would the miner of lofty dreams
Rejoice in the replenishing of strength
Forevermore
Sipping the sugary wine
Of ceaseless ideas
Along with his gardener mate
And ***** friends of all earthly grace
All the more stronger
To altogether breach
And reach The Forever
Cloudless Place



Where the sun never sleeps,
But only dreamy coze will we embrace.
Please read: :)
https://hellopoetry.com/poem/3354537/learn-from-scars-not-flesh-unmarked-song-of-tormented-souls/

---
Travel All Roads - The Rational and The Ideal
     Enlightenment isn’t the discovery of the already known.
     No need to illuminate where the sun had already shone.
By: Yue Xing Yidhna ****
October 6, 2019, Finished Writing at 23:17


I really should be getting back to reading. But I just can't stop writing all these thoughts that rush to mind. Not exactly that divine and guiding nausea I always feel and have often written about but close:
https://hellopoetry.com/poem/2236340/the-guiding-nausea/
https://hellopoetry.com/poem/3120157/the-divine-nausea/




---
This came to me spontaneously, and so I wrote all in one go. It is my immature exploration of the age-old problem of dualism, and what has been repeated a million times in the dire warning of the various variations of “If we forget the past, we’re doomed to repeat it.” Ironically it is more than likely, now that I have read it through, that it is too simple and obvious of a metaphor and allegory to not have been told before, perhaps even countlessly, and in many languages.  The irony being me having read so little to not actually be familiar with human history and our literary past.

Alas, even so, I see too many wise men boast about their correctness in a fallible road to truth while mocking those that walk a different path, perhaps not entirely correct, but still, infallible and non-disprovable as lost souls.

Even though we are all still lost. Perhaps, we are getting ever closer to the end, but nevertheless, it is yet unreached.

And so perhaps it is not so redundant for me to repeat this Critique of Pure Reason in my childish words.

Travel All Roads, Walk All Path.

You’ll never know where it goes, what it shows until you’ve seen and experienced the journey yourself.

Enlightenment isn’t the discovery of the already known.
No need to brighten where the sun had already shone.
The black ink pours in
The white page is pure gold
Wisdom seeps through
Transforming the lives
And the knowledge speaks
To the people in every fold
.
A wise man
Once was a fool

Realize that
In case
Noone has told

When did you meet him?
That matters
If still not clear

Read that again
Genre: Rational
Theme: The very moment
Mary Zollars Sep 29
In a far away land, a long time ago,
there was a revolt in the kingdom of Nah.
The people were tired of the king’s dark ways,
and forced him to make a change.
“I do not wish to harm my land,
I hate to hear my people cry,
so I will change my ways to appeal to you,
and to prove it, I will build my castle from glass”
Now the people could watch him work,
And monitor all he did.
Assured that their king was honest,
the people went about their days.
But the king was harsh,
The dungeons were full,
Still the people would say,
“If his ways are bad,
Then why would he put them on display?”
Taxes rose, corpses piled,
And the kingdom fell to ruin.
When the people asked
“What has happened?”
A wise woman said to them,
“You turned the castle to glass,
But what about the king?”
F A Pacelli Sep 25
love cripples the strong 
and strengthens the *******
love fools the wise 
and wisens the fool
love brings harmony to chaos
and chaos to harmony
love is balance
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