"multifaceted" poems
This heart of ice is multifaceted.
This stone cold ice is dense but weeps.
There is a shallow trigger that radiates
Shy a wade from me; volcanoes are deep.
May 30, 2015
May 30, 2015 at 7:15 PM UTC
*A father's love...
whether throughout times of sorrow,
or times of glory, is all but shallow.*
A father's love is a thunderstorm,
rumbling through a once peaceful sleep,
finding my awakened soul as company.
On the back porch, we seek credence,
as we share stories, and simple silence.
A father's love is a music tune,
carried from good intentions,
deep in the lungs.
Becoming bellowing blues
from a harmonica.
A father's love is rolling mountains,
as endless as eyes can see,
resonating with nature's peace.
Where he finds sacred hollows,
and gains perspective on his woes.
A father's love is a blissful brew,
aromatic, donning a frothy cover,
incredibly complex underneath.
It is a multifaceted flavor,
sweet, bitter, delicate, of earth.
A father's love is in the now.
It is there when the water is muddy;
it is there when the mud has settled,
and the water is clear.
It has nothing but patience.
*A father's love...
whether throughout times of sorrow,
or times of glory, is all but shallow.*
Nov 16, 2015
Nov 16, 2015 at 10:12 AM UTC
(what the hell is an incel)
the media portrays one loser outcast
as every man, as if man is one
big-ass monolithic hivemind
spewing their loser germs everywhere
think we got too much time on our hands
at the checkpoint, selfies on various
landmark celebrating the evil dead
as the hero for the living, graffiti
I look good in leather, also I look
lovely in the blood of my enemies
the hate a multifaceted gem
in the cavern of my predatory eyes
Would love you to join me in the unit
the machine’s got to roll until Friday
and then we can hatch our evil scheme
man I think I have too much time
on my hands
May 3, 2018
May 3, 2018 at 4:47 PM UTC
You love, are a multifaceted gemstone.
If I gaze at one facet too long
I miss the shine of the whole.
But I can't stop focusing on
The brilliant cut of your crown facet,
The glimmering sapphire stare,
And the smooth, slick shine
Of your pink opal lips.
You dazzle me in so many ways,
I am rich with love, when you are my treasure.
Oct 3, 2012
Oct 3, 2012 at 10:07 AM UTC
One broke her,
Into thin fibers of glass disarranging a once whole vase
A beautiful vase, multifaceted and covered in ornate beauty
Intricate, delicate, carefully carved
A whole vase, filled to the brim with life and love
But what does love look like? She knows not anymore.
Two found the vase in ruins,
picked up her pieces, mended her and held on to her afraid she would break once more
Carefully, protectively she now lived.
Given everything, someone who had mended her.
Yet she still felt a sense of a missing piece
A gap, a hole, a missing fragile piece, unfilled but by One who had broken her
Why does she love One who hurt her, who broke her who left her unfilled?
Two many times has he mended her back together
Yet One is still the missing piece, the gap, the hole, the Vase
Oct 23, 2012
Oct 23, 2012 at 4:59 PM UTC
**You are beautifully etched below my skin line
Every flaw
Every silence felt within my void of emotions
Transparent and naked
Taking a finger you draw my face up to look at the sun that sets
within you
Your eyes are multifaceted and delicious
Like oceans that I want to bathe within
Climbing every wave higher than the last
Breathe taking
thirst quenching
Oh my
I am over my own head here
Whirling between fear and excitement
Lust, love and pain hold me hostage
I am tied up in the fortress of my mind
And I never will care if I am to stay here for eternity
I surrender my power
I breath pure ecstasy and release
In mine minds eye
My muse beckons for beautiful words and a love that is real
So here I have given my all
My everything
When morning comes
The sunrise will be my lover
The swaying grass will stroke my cheek
The warm breeze of summer will caress my silken skin
My heart will be full of another days desire
My life is my love
And my love is my life
I shall create something deep
Something worthy of my self**
Aug 20, 2015
Aug 20, 2015 at 8:10 PM UTC
Unanswered uncertainties limber up
Unwanted confrontations cumulate
Passion deliquescing over unexplored reason
Unacknowledged, ignored, overwritten and dismissed
Without consideration for his fragile heart
The answers flow broiling him, wearing him down
Scorn rejection,
When trust is misplaced,
And she exfoliates to true skin
Hatred smothers over her love act
Bogs him down by the shoulders
All seems empty, all is empty
Toyed with, lied to and used up
He is a clock rigged for self destruction
With no actions that lead to consequences
The reason seems bleak and obvious
His respect for her dies, His respect for her other doesn't exist
She is not the one he loved, she is not the one that he knew
A younger him he sees in her other
Making the same mistake he did, mislaid trust
The multifaceted chameleon that she is
The other doesn't see
Pouring his heart out and defending her wrongs
The other starts to undermine and ignore him
Move on they say,
Only his heart is too heavy
Forget her they say,
Only she was a perennial settlement in my memory, he thought
Hate her they say,
Only he hates himself more for trying
No one understands him
Everyone tries, but no one understands
He loved, he was back stabbed
He suffered and suffocated under the blanket of secrets
Lighten your heart brother, the mascot of a good soul
You will be alright.
Dec 25, 2013
Dec 25, 2013 at 11:17 AM UTC
In the intricate tapestry of love,
the adage "once a cheater, always a cheater"
weaves a cautionary thread.
It is a phrase laden with the weight of experience,
a mantra that whispers of broken trust and shattered vows.
When someone treads the path of betrayal,
leaving the fragments of a once-whole heart in their wake,
the scars run deep.
The echoes of deceit reverberate
in the corridors of love,
leaving those who have been wounded hesitant to trust again.
The notion, "once a cheater, always a cheater," emerges as a defense mechanism,
a shield against the vulnerability of being deceived once more.
Yet, in the realm of love,
the narrative isn't always so black and white.
People evolve, learn from their mistakes, and yearn for redemption.
It's crucial to acknowledge the capacity for change
within each individual.
While the wounds of betrayal may linger,
they need not dictate the course of someone's entire romantic journey.
The human experience is multifaceted, and relationships are complex landscapes.
People stumble, fall, and sometimes, they rise anew, reshaped by the crucible of their own errors.
Love, at its essence, encompasses forgiveness, growth, and the possibility of second chances.
So, while the cautionary phrase carries the weight of wisdom,
it is equally important to recognize the potential for transformation.
People can break free from the chains of their past misdeeds,
learn to value trust, and construct relationships founded on honesty and integrity.
Love, after all, is as much about healing as it is about the initial spark.
In the end the tale of "once a cheater, always a cheater"
is not a universal truth
but rather a reminder that love demands conscientious navigation.
It prompts us to approach relationships with discernment,
to treasure the fragility of trust,
and to foster an environment where growth and change are not only possible but celebrated.
Nov 25, 2023
Nov 25, 2023 at 7:26 AM UTC
You've only ever seen yourself twice:
once in a reflection,
the other in a picture.
You've never truly seen yourself,
so I'll take the liberty to devote my entire life
to describing the extent of your beauty.
The first thing everyone notices about you is
that smile of yours, dear. It's dazzling. It's distracting.
It's absolutely lovely,
and no mirror nor picture can ever replicate its splendor.
Your warm smile melts the ice, while casual chit chat merely breaks it. When you smile, the edges of your eyes crinkle just the right amount, beckoning amiably.
Your laugh is a waterfall
and I want to spend my days letting it crash down upon me,
I want to drown in its bliss. Your laugh is a lilting balm
to the horrors these ears of mine have heard,
a soothing caress to my worrisome heart and mind.
Your eyes, you underestimate their charm.
You belittle them to simple drops of brown darling but they are transformed into pools of hazel, gold, honey, sepia, and cocoa in the sunlight.
I call them bedroom eyes.
I stare into them not to look at my reflection
but to look into your heart.
You smile with your eyes sometimes,
it's really quite lovely.
It's a shame you're not on the receiving end of it.
Your hair is absolutely stunning.
I could run my hands through it and let my fingers get lost in your curls and meet some bobby pins along the way.
You complain of it often, but
tracing the lines of your steep curls with my eyes
sends me into a happy daze.
On numerous occasions I have said it and I will say it again:
you feel beautiful. Your skin under mine feels absolutely lovely, my dear.
I could spend millennia letting my hands run
the length of your gorgeous body. And I'd do it happily, too.
I love the little moles you've got on your cheeks
and your ironing-board-scar and your lips (both sets).
You were born a blank page but now you're a beautiful work of art with depth and shades and texture.
Your body is a diamond: it is multifaceted and precious and priceless.
And it deserves to be looked at, my dear.
I adore your body, sweetheart. From the scoop of your collarbone,
to the curve of your back; from the gentle definition in your arms and legs
to the stronger curves of your *******
I love the beckoning rise of your hips and your thighs, and the gentle mound of your *** I could spend an eternity painting your body with my kisses, each a silent praise to the masterpiece that is your body.
Apr 2, 2015
Apr 2, 2015 at 10:17 AM UTC
Though my existence is very minute compared to others,
my mind is unrestrained and limitless.
My thoughts are inspired
by even the smallest speck of dust
to the largest of the universes.
It is able to imprison the deepest of secrets,
but able to reminisce the most distant memory.
No one else has the capability to see what I see,
to remember what I remember;
to the most minuscule detail.
From the day I am born till the day I leave this earth.
This may sound serene;
however there is a constant crusade with my other half.
To indicate what is correct and what is erroneous.
Occasionally, neither can respond to the problem at hand.
Then the ground is neutral
till something changes in the outside world.
But this inner world is permanently in control.
No other power of government or enemy
can break in and create a new dictatorship.
No soul can relive what I relive in my mind
each and every day.
Nothing has the force to eliminate
what I've seen or done.
No power can absorb my multifaceted emotions.
As long as I live,
my mind is secure,
and will always be protected.
Oct 6, 2014
Oct 6, 2014 at 9:29 AM UTC
She's a pattern and yet so complex--
An entity of incompleteness bound by the voices that tell her "she is nothing"--
A frame unstructured and yet paved by the scars life left on her--
Not an epitome of daintiness but the reflection of a clay that's been molded then chipped to bring forth all at once rugged, sharp, smooth and rough edges--
Multifaceted for she smiles in the light, laughs in the crowds, cries in the night and cringes at the slightest mention of the word "love"--
Self-conscious, never once hearing of a King who thought the world of her--
The irony of dodging people who care only to fall into the traps of the ones who would never care to figure her out--
Similar to a pressed rose--
Pressed into the lives of others, leaving behind residue to the point of self dehydration--
If tears are as perfume, heaven is filled with bottles marked with her name; Daisy--
Born delicate, pure, & soft to the touch--
But over time the petals have been dried , shriveled up into brown nothings that fall fearfully as another heart dares to come near--
Aug 7, 2014
Aug 7, 2014 at 2:26 AM UTC
Unmovable Unchangeable
A worthiness a standard is deposited in your inner being all other elements in life will ebb and flow but
Your essence will be darkened by sorrow but from this tragedy and sorrow riches will tower a streaming
Blessedness will flow it will instantly engage another who has just suffered loss seen unseen words and
Actions will with the deftest touch a kindness soaked in mellowness will be communicated in silence to
The heart who has just suffered the bitter harvest of sorrow the gripping real a special irreplaceable
Someone has departed to walk on a different plane for them purest light your circumstance darkest
sorrow cold as Everest you are left ripped not only of all outward cover but inward has there ever been
Such savage destruction the healthy norm now ravaged the spiritual heart ripped apart it was complete
It was formed by love alone no other sculptor is more honered to work with such substance he makes
Their face those eyes the transfiguring part of human connection truly souls merge together here in this
Special stream vision multifaceted feelings weighted the heavier the deeper the depths where
Emotional ties are created from pleasures these springs of the heart you come in emptiness you leave
With these volumes ballooned ever stirring thoughts the very impulses that make them the person you
Know this feed of expressions do they not cause an unending joy that spills at different times sometimes
Just a slow pleasant entailing then at other times a roar of engulfing and at times it happens when your
Tide is low they instinctively trigger this from their register of mercy a unity that is boundless truly you
Have small oceans within I see it in the workaday world but like the song behind closed doors magic
Fire you reach heavenly heights explorers rewarded in human feeling that can’t be bought and are never
Sold truly kings and queen of a great domain in the hidden soul you have truly roped the wind and
Touched stars as you hovered under them holding hands who can doubt God when you exhibit his very
Essence through the love you found and it causes unfathomable assurances holding hands is the same
As a great dam holding water but yours is holding never ending love
Oct 5, 2012
Oct 5, 2012 at 12:13 AM UTC
To the Great Absolute I pray
That when I am gone and
Nothing but dust is left of me
That I may be remembered
For the joy and love I gave and,
For my prose and poetry.
Intoxicated with enchanted dreams,
I strive to weave poetic vistas
Filled with magic and illusions,
With unfolding multifaceted mirrored images
Of things that could or are yet to be;
Of joy and measured sadness and
Endless impassioned struggles.
I seek to capture love's raging fires,
Stoked by amorous energies,
To illuminate the darkness of despair,
Exposing paths to bliss and ecstasies.
With awe and reverence of creation,
From undulating, azure oceans
To canopies of sparkling, starry skies,
I script Mother Nature with all her majesty
With expansive, fertile fields
Filled with irises, lilies, and yellow daffodils;
Or snow-capped purple sierras and
Eagles circling pristine, placid mountain lakes.
I conjure prancing, dancing fireflies
On luminescent moonlit nights and
Winged horses gliding through the sky
Over golden spire peaks that rise
From gleaming, ivory castle towers,
Or heroic, quixotic noble quests
To right wrongs and vanquish evil
Until there's peace and harmony.
Give me, Great Spirit, the mental dexterity
To compose indelible, memorable stories
That will be etched in the annals of history.
Help open my mind’s eye to peer into eternity.
I feel tremors, murmurs in my heart
Beating, aching from within, longing
To write and write until I'm consumed,
Having fulfilled my karmic destiny.
Finally, when my pen runs dry
It will be my time to die;
I pray that at my passing
The world will pause and sigh.
Mar 22, 2010
Mar 22, 2010 at 12:37 PM UTC
There is something intrinsically enchanting about traveling—
Meeting small destinies,
Feeling the flow of life sweep you along—
It’s not all about running away,
Or where you end up,
Or how fast you go—
Rather, it’s about the actual act of
Moving Forward.
You sit in the car, or on the plane, or in the back of someone’s pickup, and you can see the landscape undergo its natural metamorphosis again and again
Into unique multifaceted checkpoints down the list of
Things To Experience:
People to laugh with,
Hands to hold,
Memories to make…
I look out into the alternating horizon and see
‘Opportunity’ spelled out in the clouds.
I look out and can see all the reasons why I should just
Take to the wind,
Flit and float across vast spaces of life—
Set free my spirit of all societal burden for the sake of introspective sentience and honest self-discovery—
I get the appeal;
I have tasted from the goblet that decadent ambrosia,
That flavor by which coats and balms my self-criticizing soul—
Soothing away all the hack marks,
The pocks and nicks and dents that blemish and tarnish the delicate skin protecting my psyche—
I am healed by travel,
By taking life seriously as that journey by which to merely ‘enjoy the ride’,
By making a literal journey out of life,
(Via journeying.)
Ah, even as I drive onward,
Even as I am propelled ever forward along the Devil’s Backbone, and Montezuma’s Castle, chasing the setting sun,
I am already thirsting for more
Jan 28, 2014
Jan 28, 2014 at 11:51 AM UTC
I am who I'm not
I was who I ain't
everything about me is fake
the multifaceted facade
I'm everything
you think I'm not
i'm life imitating art
since arts imitating life
I'm everything that I write
which is a hoax
a laughable out loud joke dilettante
unaccomplished a novice garbage nonsensical nonsense
Product of my surroundings
Victim to my environment
A sum of the world
so can't take it to heart
where do I start?
Oh life imitating art
Since arts imitating life
I'm everything that I write
Which is a hoax
Just as the world
broke
Apr 11, 2017
Apr 11, 2017 at 8:59 PM UTC
I am stuck in this place of begging for someone to listen to me and denying my own desires to talk
It is still here – the longing to cry with someone – but it is impossible now. It’s been impossible for so long I don’t know why I even bother with any of it. I don’t know to help her…no one knows how to help her.
It doesn’t matter if you feel like a victim or a survivor, or at times, both…it still happened. It was me. It was me lying there – it was my body. I am no longer that little girl but it was undeniably me. I was hurt, I cried, I yielded all of my power to him. Me. It was me. No one helped me. I can’t make that any different. I can’t change that….not through my writing, not by speaking, not inside my mind. I can’t undo it.
I want to bury this hurt in an airtight coffin until it suffocates and can no longer damage me. I want to smash the pain with a boulder until it is crushed and no longer alive in me. I am stuck in this place of begging for someone to listen to me and denying my own desires to talk. It all comes back to the forbidden words of trust and need and I’m having a difficult time trying to shift and re-position myself in a positive, healing way.
It’s difficult to get the words out without the tears and emotions. And I won’t cry in front of anyone. There are times when I am aching with the desire to talk about difficult things and I hold back. Why? Multifaceted…complicated question and an equally complicated answer. First, there is a part of me that does not trust anyone, or even want to trust anyone. A part of me is embarrassed at the Nita that will be seen when the tears start. It is not the me that everyone knows…it’s the miserable, self-indulgent, childish, hopeless me. And I cannot risk being seen like that. And there’s a third reason…it feels incredibly undignified to cry in front of someone when they just sit there…silent and unmoving. Late at night, when it is overwhelming and relentless, I ache for someone to talk to about this pain, someone who loves me, not someone who is paid to listen.
Aug 29, 2013
Aug 29, 2013 at 12:10 AM UTC
Way out in its own oasis
Its very own brand of homeostasis
Passed the jarred ideas and whacked out mazes
Is a spot
Full of unknown faces
Hailing from unknown places
Look at it, fall out with out protracted traces
Vacant lot
Then let's settle the score
What is your original face before your mom and dad were born?
Why not start over with a clean slate, as the smell of new dawns pervade
I forgot to eat
Maybe if you gave the derelict half a chance
And looked at things from the ambivert's stance
People wouldn't notice your ego's protuberance
Upstaged by an under study
Pull the button, turn the lever, push the switch and flip the ****
Predicate the incendiary infraction
Reductio ad absurdum
Lip service provides scrutiny
We've been normalized, what the recipe for ice?
We're full of emptiness, nothing exists
No-thing, not a thing does not exist
Life is deathless
I'm looking for multifaceted individuals
To fix something that's irreparable
An eerie parable, something terrible
My future's told by flash cards
I put my head between my knees
Just wipe my memory
Leave me at the bottom of the sea
Leave my dignity to discard
When two separate divisions are over lapping
What's the sound of one hand clapping?
Comparing then and now every now and then
Again, never will I say"never again"
-Tommy Johnson
Jan 19, 2015
Jan 19, 2015 at 3:20 AM UTC
Cross things off Instead of erase and feel lost
but you dont have to think I am lame because
its too late to wear aviators-since its not the summer
and I got arthritis.
Feeling swept up in fall like brushing leaves off the sidewalk
I was captain bazaar with my sidekick
flying in on a broken engine
smoke rushing out the side
trying to lift a plane
the subsequent pain in my wrists
and the rest of my limbs
brought me to this bridge
its another thing;
multifaceted.
clever coat
and correct.
Aug 22, 2014
Aug 22, 2014 at 9:43 AM UTC
I am retooling myself
Into the man, who honors integrity with daily exercise,
Into the words of a poem, a new stanza added daily,
Into the notes of a song, yet to be complete,
Into the symphony p, a theme that lifts, soaring above the commonplace,
Into the jewel multifaceted, colors deep and husky,
Into the essences of love, always learning, dispensing hatefulness,
Into the fury of a great warrior ennobled with heroism,
Into the dexterity of fingers that dispense living kindness,
Into the vibrancy of an orchid, born from tiny seed and falls soil,
Into the vessel science and technology constantly reforms, evolute,
Into the words of a book before his eyes, before closing time, clutched with purebred pride.
Mar 31, 2016
Mar 31, 2016 at 6:07 PM UTC
What an umbrageous day
Heavy downpour cleaning soul city streetlights
unburdened back beckoned bright eye and high
The cleansing of the spirit
New rain beginnings
relinquishing old dirt and washed
all resentment that peels away like rotten orange rinds
revealing the musty moth-eaten underside of the teenage psyche
It’s a beacon of light, a point in the celestial wake of night
The true-burning ember amidst the counterfeit
glows of the day to day drudgery of a mundane
Human existence
Who cower and hide from head to toe in plastic wrap
and duct their senses with sticky ignorance
Who wander and wonder upon the multifaceted
raindrop that caresses each fleshy pore with motherly love
Who drift effortlessly
up misty parking garages
up sweaty chimney stacks
down missing fire escapes
In the tundra of weary dreary winter bite
Cold suspects stand innocent on frozen street corner
What an umbrageous day. Overcast. Raining.
Like open wounds rinsed clean to be healed by
and forgotten in time
The fractals are hard to miss
even in the gathering puddles
[written about getting high. April 2010.]
Mar 7, 2013
Mar 7, 2013 at 12:34 AM UTC
Tears vermilion reflecting the night,
St Elmo's fire burning bright,
Sea sick sailors pray for the light
Doomed and forgotten nets are dry.
Albatross soars, wings of flight
Guiding the lost with cries of gulls,
Let us laugh at their misfortune,
Schadenfreude
Styx flows too soon,
Gold on each eyelid
The Titans shall have their due.
Hyperion weeps to Neptune's view
As Icarus burns to seas of blue
And the sails catch on,
Enlightened by the
Dawn multifaceted hue.
Scarlet prism gems
Reflect the fallen, truth
Through crimson tinted lens.
Jun 26, 2014
Jun 26, 2014 at 6:59 AM UTC
Sugar cutie
The divine color of the skin, the color of white sugar, is the color of uncontrollable pleasure, you are definitely sweeter than any sugar and pleasure, sugar cutie. You are a reflection of a deep shock from admiration, excitement, makes ***** and fall in love, Every second is overflowing with love and intensifies every day. You are more beautiful than love itself, *** life, reality, and even paradise. You are my hot temptation, **** so hot.
You are talking about HQ the highest quality to the smallest particle and pixel, atom, molecule, geometric perfection of the image of the body and face - it looks so chic in slow motion, stretches the pleasure of excitement, when I touch your skin I have amazing feelings of love and excitement and these feelings are amplified a hundred times when you touch me, your kisses are diving immersion in the depths of love, the infinite beauty of your body. I sincerely love and want only you alone, your body shape like a mega boom boom **** boombox explosive brain detox, powerful rap beat bass, you sound cool and **** your beauty and personality are multifaceted and unique as a gemstone of love and *** You are my highest eternal ideal.
Your body is the best **** in the world, a seductive pin-up, a very picturesque eroticism of feelings and passions, how your sweet moans of pleasure excite me beyond, you are so beautiful that even an impotent woman, men's ***** will stand up, the lady of male hearts and makes ***** members. Your appearance moves me to the dimension of eternal love, you are above love and *** for me you are above everything else. You are more beautiful than the most beautiful galaxies of the universes, no form of life can be more beautiful than you, you are my queen of the universe. You are the same ideal, that very highest value, a dream in my life that I can’t give up in any way.
Author: Musin Almat Zhumabekovich
Aug 16, 2019
Aug 16, 2019 at 1:25 PM UTC
§
What umbrage have I committed against my love?
Which insult weighs heaviest
upon her patience?
My callous actions continually hurting
the one I desire above all others.
Is it my carelessness?
My failure to think before acting?
Is it my salacious nature
that overwhelms her multifaceted heart?
How does one acquire forgiveness?
What must a man do, to clean
the slate of his transgressions?
Must I suffer, if so
then leaving me alone this way
is punishment enough.
But if angry words need be vented
then vent them upon me.
I shall remain silent
until your rage subsides,
and you give me leave
to speak once again.
Forgive my umbrage my love.
I hold my tongue in anticipation.
I will do all I must to earn your forgiveness.
Until then, I wait faithfully
for your hand
to reach through the walls of my solitude,
and drag me back into your incomparable embrace.
Jun 13, 2012
Jun 13, 2012 at 5:55 AM UTC
Stand firm young explorer, our reality is before your eyes. The path of least resistance comes and goes with the reading of the signs. Do not reach beyond their grasp dear astronaut, for you can only hold what you must. And your disinclined stance may start to sway, towards a book of spiritual trust. A compass of lost translation, which has been tattered by the evolution of our time. Sown together by imperfect hands and tongues, of the righteously divine. Or instead you stumble towards numbered texts and the collection of mans thoughts. Classified, organized, and defined in complex logical knots. A thorn bush of intricate perceptions of our multifaceted human condition, subjected to nothing more than our screaming birth and our timely decomposition. But fear not my naive trekker, for the decision is yours to hold. Either with nail in hand or the hammer made ready, may your heart be ever so bold. And though the philosophical plates of these worlds seem to diverge from once connected fates, the heavens you come to find as a result may be behind different gates. Only you hold the key to open your ever changing mind, one carved by humble carpenter hand or molded by mankind. So step lively youthful sailor for the winds are at your back, and the house from which you build your truth comes of brick or with cross-bared plaque. Worry not of your inaction little voyager, for the world will not react. The world remains in constant motion, and will force you to interact. Whether several days of creation must pass or a bang of creative juice, it is you who must chose to dive in the water or walk above man’s made truth. So good luck my inexperienced hiker as the waves of decision roll in. May the solace you find in the choices you make be without regrettable sin. I pray the stars you look to at night point you toward your goal, and that you find a balanced understanding of the earth and your spiritual soul.
Mar 18, 2014
Mar 18, 2014 at 9:33 PM UTC