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preston Apr 10

I move through the day
with my headphones on—
not just for the music,

but for the remembering.

A wire,
a pulse,
a quiet line
that tethers me

to the hush on the other side.

I charge them every night—
because she might need
the warmth of soundless presence,
the kind that doesn’t reach in,

   but wraps around.

She is hidden,
but not gone.

She is beneath
the hush of fabric and mercy,
where no eyes ****,

no explanations are required.

And I—
I go on,
lifting and lowering weight,
cutting silence with work,

holding space

for the one who is learning;
that Light can contain her
without devouring.



So I charge the headphones.
I keep the line open.
And I carry her
as lightly as I can,
because right now—

   that is how
   love breathes.


And underneath this blanket
of containment,
she is unfolding.

There is a safety here
that her spirit
so desperately needs..


As she learns how to Become,
   again


and as I work, she is blissfully doodling,
on the other line  with me
Immersed in the covering  of safety
that only Light can bring

#Love
Lance Remir Apr 8
As my world is engulfed in flames
Do you still burn for me?
Raging fires, roaring so loudly
Do you still feel me, hear me?
As my heart burns for you
As my love erupts 
Do you not see my passion?

Or am I doomed to be a waste?
All that heat and passion and love
An explosion of emotions, searing my skies
Do I not light you up?
Ashes upon ashes, dying to embers
Do you not want my warmth?

Burned out, cinders and gray
All those feelings and connections
Did it disappear like smoke?
What was once lit now smoldered
What was once passion is now blackened
Was our fire ever real?
Or was I the only one burned?
Immortality Apr 9
It was dark in cave,
the air felt cold—inside out.

He held her
as if she were glass,
a lamb
in the arms
of a wolf midnight.

Outside
the sky wept,
but inside us
a flower bloomed—
in April.
I turned 18 today! Ahhhhhhh, happy birthday to me!! Thank you all so much for the love and support. I still can’t believe I’m 18 now. I’ve been ill for a few days, so this birthday hasn’t been the most enjoyable. On top of that, I’ve been caught up with academics too. I’m really thankful for everything I have, but I also want to keep improving and become a better version of myself. I have the best family ever, couldn’t ask for anything better, tbh.
neth jones Apr 10
the phosphorus beat of hearth and lap and love
of ambrosia made mother sung
the phosphorus beat of snug lure
and depth inviting
Immortality Apr 2
Amidst the daisies,
all I could see,
was you.

Just us alone,
beneath blue sky.

You beside me, eyes closed,
wind tracing its fingers
through your hair,
bathed in sunlight,
your soft smile lingering.

Oh, how I envy them—
for giving you a peace
I can only dream of.
If only she could be....
Daniel Tucker Mar 25
Established landmarks removed test the fates
Burning wind in a vacant sky
Rearranged cosmic hemispheres of mind
Oracle of day not seen with naked eye

The need for warmth a thing of the past
Frigid waters the basis of new-fangled cell
Tortured derelicts kept from spiritual vision
Oracle of night hangs in day’s empty shell

Dubious means to generate a sun of artificial light
But a fling cannot replace a love that is shunned
Yet warm rays of sunlight still flow above the temporal
Still hanging in defiance of the 60 cycle hum

Regain your bearings oh heart of true light
Everything in its place: oracle of day and oracle of night.
© 2025 Daniel Tucker
Your smell is a warmth
I can’t touch
but feel in every breath.

The air carries your smell to me,
like a secret message
only I can understand.

In every breath,
I feel closer to you,
as if your essence
is the thread
that weaves us together,
stitching my soul to yours.

I want to smell you even more,
to breathe you in even closer,
to let your presence
fill every part of me.

I want to live in a world
where your scent is the atmosphere,
wrapping me in a love so deep,
where the universe itself
holds us together.
Sometimes, I will hug you,
hold you so tightly
with the force of love—
like the force of gravity
fusing atoms inside the sun.

Our souls will merge,
radiating light
to the galaxies.

Other times, I will hold
just a single finger of yours,
and it will feel like the spark
that starts a chain reaction
in a nuclear reactor—

powerful enough
to ignite a warmth
that spreads through every part of me,
filling my world
with light and heat.
Immortality Mar 20
Love,
in its calm,
feels like breathing,
quiet,
steady,
always there.
Calm love should feel like the early morning light, - soft, steady, and effortless, isn't it???
preston Mar 17

She stands at the Well.
But she is not alone.

A voice speaks—
"You have no husband, do you?
Not just one—not two—but many.
And still, you are thirsty."


She freezes.
Because the voice is true.
Because she is seen.

But she resists.

"It’s not just the men…"
Her hands tighten.
"There is another ‘her’ inside me.

She fights. She *****.
She wants destruction and hunger and chaos.
She doesn’t listen. She doesn’t stop.
She is the one who makes me want to throw myself from a cliff
just so I don’t have to deal with her anymore."

"She’s gonna do something crazy,"
she whispers.
"And I’ll be gone. Like I was never even here."

The voice does not flinch.
"Then let Me meet her."

Silence.

A storm brews behind her ribs.

The "her" within her stirs—
The dark one. The wounded one.
She crouches behind the rocks, clutching her shame.

The other "her"—the one who still believes—
She wades into the water, hands lifted, reaching for salvation.

One moves toward the Light.
One remains in the shadows.

"You see, Lord? She does not belong to me.
She belongs to the dark."


A pause.

"No," The Spirit says.
"She belongs to Me."

The rocks begin to shake.
The water ripples.

Behind the trees, the dark "her" presses her back against the bark,
watching the water, watching the other "her" wade in.
She wants to believe.
She wants to step forward.

But she remembers.

The love of man is dishonest.
The world swallows and devours.
Every time she has trusted, she has been burned.

"The water will steal me," she whispers.
"The light will dissolve me. I will disappear."

But the Spirit does not demand.
It does not chase.
It does not force.

It only knows.

"You are afraid that surrender will erase you," the Spirit says.
"But you have already been erased."

The words cut deep.
Because they are true.

"You live divided.
One ‘her’ in the shadows.
One ‘her’ in the light.
Neither whole.
Neither free."


The dark "her" clenches her fists.
"You don’t understand her," she spits.
"She needs me."

"No," the Spirit says.
"She needs  Me."

The trees begin to shake.
The wind rises.

"Come, little one.
I have been waiting for you."


She takes a step forward.
The trees do not stop her.
The rocks do not hold her.

The dark "her" and the one who waits—the one who believes—
They are not enemies.
They are not strangers.

They are two halves of the same soul.

And Love—
Love has come to bring them both home.



The Art of Salvation

River running..
That rushing sound in these parts
spell out the words, crystal-clear..
Tree-lined banks, giving way
to the Dark Hills,  upslope

Giving way,  to
granite-rocked outcroppings
giving way to  elk-hidden quakeys
Surrendering their holy-huddle's
pristine stances
to tall  prairie-grass, waving
wild raspberries  and tall pines

    And I,  myself..
    am surrendering also
She is watching the water, believing
That as it flows,
she will not lose herself in it
That it will not steal,  but heal

That I will not  rage again
within my fear

I am watching her,
watch the water
I am watching the water--  believing
That as I give  of myself
further  into the flow

that I will not become  diffused
by humanity
By the love  of man
and all  of its dishonesty

and all  of its  diabolical treachery

Of its  lack of concern,
or understanding
Or ability to break through
its own,  self-centeredness

Or its need  to swallow me up
    into the mundane.
Her hands are in the air now,
praising..

Worshipping
the true nature  of the flow,
Believing..
that I will let all of this, go
And as she  wades in
I ease, back--

Retreating
up the Dark Hills, *****
Clutching tightly..
To granite-rocked outcroppings,
  weeping.

Hiding in the quakeys,
among the majestic elk
Begging for the tallgrass, cover
among the wild raspberries.
   Now, fully concealed
   in  tall pines.

Her hands
are stretched out,  now..
as if hovering  over the waters,
participating

While I hide  from it all

While I hide,  from humanity;
From the fallen,  love of man

    She is wading in,
    Believing
.    
As I am leaving;
Believing

    As the cloud-hidden sky,
    starts raining--

playing the most incredible, of tunes..
https://youtu.be/PgRafRp-P-o?si=1A3rb7ajt_ZPlMW2

xox
https://hellopoetry.com/poem/4407079/the-art-of-salvation/


"Little Spirits  were born
with their little  freedoms  intact--
In freedom.. they are only
drawn out  by Love"

youtu.be/i-kHleNYIDc

            ❤️❤️

https://hellopoetry.com/poem/4736547/children-of-the-quakies/
xo
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