IN THE PASSING

Free Spirits and Choices
Choices not necessarily right, as much as them being your own
Free spirits not in the sense of being detached, but not bound by extraneous bonds
Nothing more effective than a bond of the heart to let a free spirit willingly go…

Moments and Lifetimes
Moments in a lifetime or lifetimes in moments…the ability to live both

Love and Life
The power to make them synonymous to live for love and love to live

Impulse and Individuality
The impulse of being carefree yet not careless.
Individuality in being able to admire selflessly another person but being perfectly content with oneself

Still waters and Deep convictions
Causes to be won and battles to be fought; the conviction to emerge unscathed,

pick up the pieces and to continue to walk the road you were going.

embers

It was a lonely night
The wind so cold
…the moon so full & bold
A million stars played in the skies
Unaware of my’s heart’s cries.

Amidst the darkness
Somewhere in the night
Two souls lit a bonfire alight
I lit the pieces of my heart
He added the fuel
So the fire would last all night long
The flames created visions
Our eyes together saw.

The bonfire burnt through the night
Morning sun rose and left me
As lonely and hurt
Burning as bright as the
Fire of the night
………………only embers remained.

Lost

I lost you; I lost what I lived for
Am neither here, nor there
My existence shaken
My hollow Soul
My mind’ stormed; my eyes pouring
Am so torn.
My head so full,
My vision so hazy,
Cloudy skies, silent pathways
An autumned mind
Spring so far
Your fears, my tears
The fire burns, consumes it all
The music plays, the dream breaks…

it doesn't interest me...

It doesn't interest me what you do for a living. I want to know what you ache for, and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart's longing.

It doesn't interest me how old you are. I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool for love, for your dream, for the adventure of being alive.

It doesn’t interest me what planets are squaring your moon. I want to know if you have touched the centre of your own sorrow, if you have been opened by life's betrayals or have become shrivelled and closed from fear of further pain. I want to know if you can sit with pain, mine or your own, without moving to hide it or fade it or fix it.

I want to know if you can be with joy, mine or your own, if you can dance with wildness and let the ecstasy fill you to the tips of your fingers and toes without cautioning us to be careful, to be realistic, or to remember the limitations of being human. It doesn't interest me if the story you're telling me is true. I want to know if you can disappoint another to be true to yourself; if you can bear the accusation of betrayal and not betray your own soul; if you can be faithless and therefore trustworthy.

I want to know if you can see beauty, even when it’s not pretty, every day, and if you can source your own life from its presence.

I want to know if you can live with failure, yours and mine, and still stand on the edge of a lake and shout to the silver of the full moon, "Yes!"

It doesn't interest me to know where you live or how much money you have. I want to know if you can get up after the night of grief and despair, weary and bruised to the bone, and do what needs to be done to feed the children.
It doesn't interest me who you know, or how you came to be here. I want to know if you will stand in the centre of the fire with me and not shrink back.

It doesn't interest me where and what or with whom you have studied. I want to know what sustains you, from the inside, when all else falls away.

I want to know if you can be alone with yourself, and if you truly like the company you keep in the empty moments.

From the book ---The Invitation by Oriah Mountain Dreamer, Harper San Francisco 1999

The Prostitute

Dim lights
Smudged lipsticks….
Psychedelic symphony
Shadows on the wall
Divinity losing control
Her molten beauty
His power so strong
Her clear crystal face
Brutally calm and serene
Torrents of his desire
The depth of which cannot be seen

The human jungle…
The gory detail
A wicked spell thy caste
The entire land shall have a blast
The story now begun…

She gathers her robe and walks
The price for the act is now paid
She moves on for her next prey
Powerless nudity lies couched on the bed
Serenity walks away
Mourns the loss of innocence
A winner, a loser
Battles never fought

The prostitute on the Street
Shivers as she walks.

MOON

Faraway… shining bright,
Hurting the night
Tearing through my body
Ripping through my mind

Making love to my soul;
My head loses control.

I look at the moon and smile
Knowing that it’ll never be mine…