Spiral

Tunnel vision conversations with the one in black

In the thick of his rebellious mindset, smiling

Moments to collect before awaking to forget

With heavy hearted uncertainties left unanswered

We meet in-between the layers of time as

I imagine you near beneath the collective surface

Each introduction of space determined

By the questions of the moment we experience together

As we are, but more than we expected to have the other consider

 

Connected in the discovery of more than our measured potential

“How do you do it?”

My words trailing out of consciousness rather than out of mouth

Met with brown eyes that burned a hole in my heart past lives ago

No answer to reply, only wisdom to learn

“I know I must lose my mind to gain the US in myself”

 

I saw you standing in front of the pine tree line

Your smile more noticeable than the noose tied tight

And again, in the shadows of my day in the white light

Supporting my head as I defended my rights

Once more, in the darkness of your touring comfort

Behind some stage where you felt your heart close

Again and again, we continue to spiral home

 

Lost in the worlds but always paired in our love

 

I am grateful for barefoot hiking and lime water ❤

http://www.wisegeek.com/how-do-i-grow-a-key-lime-tree.htm

Hope

​What of this light?

Golden bright as a reflection of the heavens

The creations in the stories told to our children

These realities of blood, of fear, of greed

Of whatever we make it, if only to ignore the present moments

No thinking!

Forgetting more as a wish than wanting to dream

Mental distinctions of anything, of wanting, of nothing

Of whatever we make it, dead thoughts to protect the living

Who is the ascended?

Lifted guides of the ‘all-knowing’

Those holding the weight of the celestial message

Spiritual saints of our modern world, of one force, of Gaia

Of whatever we make it, we become who we would like to be

We accept the beggars of trust

To ridicule the hearts offering love

When the light gets too hot to bear

When the skin reddens and cracks in the third-eye stare

The teachers grow old in their destined comfort

Burning themselves in their endless summers

What of this life?

An individual in response to everyone else

Not what’s felt

To exist of the mind, of the heart, of the soul

Of whatever we make it, believing that we can make it

Despite not knowing the secrets of hope

I am grateful for dark winter nights ❤