Numbing My Reality

Seeing hope in the eyes of death

Knowing love is an energy blessed

Walked into a room

Where he stood strong

Where she would laugh

Why tomorrow we will all cry

Is a measure

Conducive to living life

Accepting mortality

Turning anger to hope

For with every life

A new dawn prepares sunset

Our confusion

Begins evolution of time

The resurrection of hope

Suggests love.

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A Walk Inside A Dream

Took a walk inside a dream,

seemed the same,

each waking moment,

a breath of wonder

then wander back inside

visit old friends

stir memories of an

attitude

the sort of look in an eye

when we might fall into

the shell of our selves

inside the dream

everything happens

we sometimes wish away

from ourselves.

The next day

When a conscious reminder

that dream last nigh

look around the space

the people drifting by

could be there then

might be there

now

waiting for an arrival

every stone unturned

when the natural

tendency might be to scream

inside a dream

taking a walk

a wander

into a waking day

A Little Boy

when I was a little boy

I had no idea

the man

I would become;

inside all of this

anxiety

remains that little boy

screaming

sometimes to not recall

the day

innocence gave its

departure notice

to his only

grasp upon

sweet reality

 

when I was a little boy

I understood

universal

love

If, Again

If

once we

were partners

though shadowed

intimate decisions

drove us apart, our lives

seemingly drawn

in more necessary direction,

would it be possible

to find purpose

in knowing …

again.

 

If

the world

were able to

walk in the shoes

of those they despise

would it be possible then

for each of our lives

to become valid

to such a

degree

we might understand

love,

again.

 

If

the world

were a perfect sphere

and all the polar opposites

began to better listen and hear

each other rather than negate

their contributions,

could we maybe

become

whole

again.

 

If when

the sun were to set

we might all still look inside

each other’s lives could

we finally recognize

the similariites

and love

again.

 

If … again

The Beginnings of How We Believe

A young boy looks out to sea from the shores of the Greek islan

I suppose there has to be a little peace,

the mind in a restful state,

oh and music offers a solace,

an avenue to draw the heart

along a wonderful path of sweetness.

 

I remember as a child

there was this hilltop,

can’t call it a mountain,

but the anyway was the reach,

a gravel path to the cityscape.

 

I would sit there for morning,

often afternoons,

the evenings find me again,

it was a place where I would sit

in wonder about all the things I did.

 

I reflect today on that patch of gravel,

the rocks and stumps I chose

to sit upon, or perhaps a lean to

on a tree nearby, and I wonder

if I knew now what I worried then.

 

There is a certain beauty in finding peace,

when we can believe,

we know in our hearts the right thing,

the world of humanity,

is designed around the concept of love.


Photo found on savethechildren.org

 

 

The Passing, of a Day

When begins insurmountable

task,

the waking anxiety,

a desire to burrow

rather than the music of the day.

 

We all seemingly rise to

a pattern

so familiar, oddly routine,

sometimes forgetting

simple beauty.

 

Our lives caught up in the now,

my mother used to say,

he’s a now

person referring to life,

whenever my depression would fail me.

 

Inside the passing

of hours

a remarkable dream,

perhaps a positive

an outcome of smiles.

 

Inside the passing of a day,

so much magic

allows the human condition

to love,

to understand, to breathe, to live.