catwmSomewhere in the middle, Florida USA6,683 posts
The tide comes in and brings the new, it rushes out and leaves the few; touching each grain of sand..... we reach for each others hand. Moments are fleeting, but memories are true; Embracing the future we are walking through.
catwmSomewhere in the middle, Florida USA6,683 posts
I want to drink the water from your lips. I want to hear the movement of your soul. I want to touch the sound of your heart. I want to breath in your shadow.
One's journey can lead to a crossroad. Walking ahead we can see a signpost. Our life becomes a trek on the road. We still can't read the sign or post.
We can become tempted and get sidetracked. We wonder if our path is on the road. We see green grass in the sidewalk cracks. We wonder if there is a guide on the road.
The signpost gives answers to where. It tells us how far another place will be. We wonder if we our destiny is there. We wonder if fate controls our destiny.
At some point the road can seem like home. We could care less where it takes us. It becomes a pleasant journey taken alone. We wonder where the road can take us.
The road becomes like a wanted lover. It lures us along and loves us. The road is a jealous lover and the long road becomes us.
the crossroads are many journeys end alike for all the winding paths and bridges within us is home carry upon your back lifetime, and more while seeking along the road to you and what searches have you? to what ends do we wander? what beginnings, is there envisioning the last step where the road ends on the quest this time... and, does it mean and ending at all? many paths, worn or begun anew to all-where changes come and go the way and on wayward spirits run from or to or, can be it both? chapters pages, just like maps tracing directions winding roads, straight as the crow has flown toward destiny or destiny made...
I touched a name today. The loneliness went away. We were just kids at play. But I felt touched anyway. What more can I really say? It was such a special day. Just to be touched that way. I wanted our time to stay. Life to me was then OK. I put my heart on display. Today was better than yesterday. Because I touched a name today.
Push Pull. We act like many puppets on strings. Push Pull. We take risks and friendship rings. Push Pull. We dance becoming song that sings. Push Pull. We connect noticing other things. Push Pull. We communicate and life springs. Push Pull. We become alive aware of everything. Push Pull. We adjust and cut our many strings.
Ninety-nine sheep on the wailing wall but the hundredth made it all worth while. I lost a heart but gained a soul, Paul. The great shepherd knows how to smile.
Dreamers are believers; are we not? We dance the tune of a different drummer. Onward we dream of love just like Lot. She turns to stone; oh what a bummer.
Life like real time never stands still. The other side of the fence is green grass. We try for love and eat to our fill. We offer friendship but let us pass.
Life offers us rainbows like magic. We trudge and march up the hill. In our wake love can be tragic. We wonder who can afford our bill.
Dreamers are the chosen believers. Life is a battle of many choices. False prophets can be deceivers. In solitude we hear a still voice.
I purged and pruned till I felt so small. I didn't have much but still I gave it all. The emptiness of love wanted to me stall. I cried to the darkness till I bawled.
I challenged the void with my love call. Love called back to me from the great wall. The light broke through darkness with awe. The emptiness of love broke down its wall.
The impossibility of love challenges all. But the true of heart can not accept fall. The true of heart are not stopped by walls. True challenges truth and knows love's call.
The truth bears witness of itself for all. Ignorance of love can challenge us all. But the weakness of hate to love will fall. Nothing can challenge but nothing will fall.
Love can seem like the biggest struggle of all. Hate is always trying to break down its wall. But love saves itself bearing the fall. The impossibility of love is not impossible at all.
Little foxes try to destroy the vine because they know love can be blind. Little bunnies try to wait in line because of sweet berries left behind. Little bears then come to dine while humans try to repair the vine. Hunters come shooting with carbines. They gather the berries to make wine. The animals are scared of the hunter mind. Each creature seeks its own kind. Love acknowledges and says ok, fine.
sit among the tiny chairs pouring pretend tea for the guest in your mind terror at the door, oh my! answer it, see it's teeth offer it tea in fragile cups let it in, to sit awhile vengance be intention sugar coated woes who sits and sips with guilt table looks too small one lump or twenty hunters not allowed sacred cow becomes beast of burden barbecue no room for the spit in here
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