Stillness Upon the Surface of the Pond

“Quiet minds cannot be perplexed or frightened
but go on in fortune or misfortune at their own private pace,
like a clock during a thunderstorm. ”
~ Robert Louis Stevenson

ripples

Sometimes you don’t like the person you become.
It is not who you are,
not who you want to be..
that person of fears and insecurities and ‘wants’..

Sometimes that person emerges,
in moments of darkness,
or lack of clarity.
But that person never stays,
those feelings never stay.
They are like the ripples on the surface of a pond
when it is disturbed by a pebble, or a branch..
They don’t last,
and the stillness returns.

You are that stillness.

You are not the ripples.

When there is stillness upon the surface of the pond
we can see a clear reflection
of the trees, the sky, the birds flying above
a clear reflection of ourselves,
and of those who gaze upon our visage..

It is the ripples that cause distortion;
we no longer see the reflection as it is..
it shakes, becomes unsteady,
the mind can’t make sense of it..
and we feel uneasy~
afraid.

So much changes day to day on the surface,
but underneath,
the stillness and the calm can remain.

We simply have to learn to recognize the ripples
for what they are before they affect us,
as mere disturbances,
and have faith that the stillness will return

if we remain calm,

if we remain still.

It is not always an easy task to remember,
to remain still..
to recognize the ripples
and we find ourselves acting in ways unworthy of our true being.

But sometimes,
someone comes into our lives and helps us to remember.

And they do it so gently and lovingly
that we are sometimes not aware of what they are doing.
They don’t get upset..
They don’t shut themselves off from us
or see us as unworthy
or walk away.

They stay open,
allowing their wondrous light to keep shining,
lighting our way ~

They remain that mirror that we need
and we are able to see ourselves,
our true self,
without the distortions.

They are able to see the ‘stillness’,
even when we are affected by the occasional disturbance.
And as they steady our world,
they steady our hearts.
They become our stillness on the surface of the pond.

You know when someone like that enters your life,
a divinely-wrapped gift from heaven ~
inherently and wholly.. you know.

May we all find such a gift.

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Some Days You Want To Run

cage

Your eyes smile at me
I forget all my worries, my pain
But then we part for a while
and it starts all over again

Some days you want to run
Some days you want to stick it through
I just don’t know what I should do

Love is such a roller coaster
a battlefield
a war
It guts you to the core

Win or lose
the heart is the ultimate victim
You claim to love but then love dies
instead of healing you realize you wrecked  ’em
and what you lost
oh what you lost
came at such a high cost ~
oh what I lost
came at such a high cost

Some days you want to run
Some days you want to stick it through
I just don’t know what I should do

They say you can leave anytime you want
No one is a prisoner here,
the key you hold only fits an open door.
What locks you in is your own fear
What locks you out is your own fear

Some days you want to run..
Some days..

cage

 

Longing..

hema

I want to do away
with worry and fear…
inhaling deeply
letting the sharp salt air
permeate through my lungs

I want to look out
where the sky meets the waves
at the water’s edge
in a brazen, passionate kiss~
a wanton embrace
at its farthest horizon

I want to look up
and be blinded by the brazen sun,
forcing me to close my eyes
and bathe in its warmth
listening to its solitudinous soliloquy

I want to read  to my hearts content.
I want to write ~
write
until my mind becomes a blank canvas..
pouring,
emptying
releasing everything,
bleeding gold and silver
onto pristine parchment,
.. and having the golden sun bathe it
in crimson
as it sets.

I want to paint with the Master Artist along the azure sky,
our brush strokes illuminating the hues
of sunset and twilight,
and moonlight;
the reds, oranges, pale pinks and yellows and lilacs;
our hands resting into the deepest blacks in the depth of night
the stars, sparkling like diamonds

I want to be in flight
and chase the sunset
and the sunrise,
and mark the time
by the passing of the two twilights.

I want Love.
I want You.

 

A writer writes..

unnamed

a writer writes,
to ameliorate the pain
be it holy or profane
be it balanced or insane
with affection or disdain

Every word written wipes away a tear
every line, refuge from fear

a sort of self medication
a self reparation
a hopeful initiation
from a hopeless situation

every couplet,
a bleeding wound healed
every stanza,
a memory sealed

a writer writes,
to begin again
to leave behind the pain
a release from a binding chain
and that familiar refrain

in vain..

and so the writer writes..
Again..
    and Again..