Spinning Eight

Spinning Eight

21 May 2016

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Courtesy Karolbak.com

 

Sacred blood

Diluted in her

Glory’s tides

Closed caskets

They carry gold in baskets

Redemption her weight

 

Heavy stance

Her destined measure

Royals pay

Bleak treasure

Son daughter and the unborn

Their tribute forlorn

 

The kings walk

Following North Star

Polar talks

Opposite

Spun out of control we are

Twined in other side

 

Night-clad ride

The bosom silent

The eyes keen

Frame unseen

They hurry towards deserts

Where sands recount Time

 

They await

His eyes his passion

She watches

Unmoved mind

Only Heart in compassion

Appearance deceives

 

He grieves

Locked within remnants

Star born creed

Heaven’s leaves

Lost each of his descendants

Sacrificial greed

 

In her eyes

He distills waters

Their hearts beat

Unison

She picks up as he falters

Twined are their spirits

 

Spinning Eight

Infinity’s Tale

Unborn male

Now female

Gods and Demons laughing fail

To explain the joke

 

Reading of the poem: 

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Courtesy Karolbak.com

Down like Rain – Jesse Cook

Ocean Blue – Jesse Cook

Rapture – Jesse Cook

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0wyntaG_N3Y

Towering stones

Towering stones

9 April 2016

stones weheartit com
Courtesy 123rf on weheartit.com

 

Within lands

Erected on marsh

We play games

Peek-a-boo

Tugging of pony tails harsh

Boys will be snide boys

 

Broken toys

Token of the might

Winged souls

Messengers

Of stories I will hear not

Cast out to the dark

 

Unbridled

A tale of two stars

Rekindled

He recounts

Attempting to ignite spark

Of down trodden glows

 

Spirit flies

Hovering in skies

His demeanour

Meekness sly

Embarking upon journey

Built upon a lie

 

I rip net

Sheet tool of balance

Mermaids freed

Swim ashore

Walking feet overcome sore

Of transformation

 

Spirit tamed

Casts the road roses

Curtains pulled

Light galore

Sets my eye upon Moses

Miracles waver

 

Tall nights cull

Moonbeams to shower

Skull and bones

Towering stones

In the dark he will cower

Samson of morrows

 

Reading of the poem: 

stones gizmodo com
Courtesy gizmodo.com

Out of the Woods – Taylor Swift

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JLf9q36UsBk

De l’entrain à mourir naît vie éteinte / From spirit of death a wane life is born

De l’entrain à mourir naît vie éteinte

11 février 2016

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L’étude de mes maux le cerveau éreinte

Une vie pour pécher sur rivière radeau

J’invente mélopées de fiévreuses complaintes

Saisir par les tripes de vie mon cadeau

 

De l’entrain à mourir naît vie éteinte

Allumer bûcher, étreindre fourneaux

Elaguer douleur par pores je la suinte

Couper tout menu empiler copeaux

 

Silence observé n’est point consentement

J’habite en des lieux de déni de vie

De l’offre assurance elle sans qu’on sente ment

 

Le dos voûté lourd le cœur dans l’oubli

J’invente un futur stellaires scintillements

Dialogues pour les sourds chaos anobli

 

Lecture du poème: 

vie alittlemarket com
Courtesy alitttlemarket.com

 

English rough translation here

 

From spirit of death a wane life is born

February 11, 2016

vie pinterest com 2
Courtesy pinterest.com

 

The study of my woes tires the mind

A life spent fishing raft on the river

I invent chants of feverish complaints

To grab by life’s guts take charge of my gift

 

From spirit of death a wane life is born

To light a bonfire hugging furnaces

To prune off the pain oozing out of pores

To cut all tiny and stack the shavings

 

The silence observed is not consent sign

I live in places of life’s denial

Guaranteed offer none knows but she lies

 

Heavy the arched back heart in oblivion

I invent future of stellar sparkles

Dialogues for deaf and knighted chaos

 

vie pinterest com
Courtesy pinterest.com

 

Dream 3 (in the midst of my life) – Max Richter

Path 5 (Delta) – Max Richter

Dream 13 (minus even) – Max Richter

 

As Time flies still

As Time flies still

16 January 2016

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Courtesy emm0100 on deviantart.com

 

She shrieked. Her mother ran in from the other room, wondering if she hurt herself. She was standing there, trembling, her face contorted with fear as she gazed at the middle-aged woman in front of her. Look she screeched at her mom, who is that fat woman? It is you, answered her mother, tears running down her face.

 

She looked at herself in the mirror. Time had passed faster than she imagined. Ten years! She could not believe that this had happened. The words of her mother explaining everything drowned into the distance and she only picked up bits and pieces so akin to the bits and pieces of herself that she was now picking up, recollecting her past as she examined that unknown paunchy dull woman. …Catatonia… you were… depressed… never reacting… I took care of you despite …fed you… combed your hair… bathed you…

 

The grandfather clock seemed to pound the seconds synchronised with the beating of her heart as she reached out to the image of herself and the vision of her hand with its strange reflection, chubby with the nails crooked and bitten off was another shock. Ticks and tocks, how many more shocks, her mind whispered. She still could not believe so much time had passed without her even living those moments truly. Of essential time she had not felt the chime, she told herself. It was as if someone had stolen those years, hidden them away from her. Oh but to find the key to the treasure chest and wind back those memories to contemplate!

 

She looked back to her image, the weary tired eyes with the crow lines extending towards the cheeks. Those cheeks once so rosy and spruced how they were all faded now sad and grey. That sagging tired jawline could sink the spirits lower than wine she thought to herself as her finger traced them slowly towards her temples. Her head was aching now and she pressed her temples hard wincing under the pain but glad to be feeling again something at least. All those years gone by that she would never be able to witness like grains of sand they had seeped through her fingers and would never come back. What had happened to him she wondered. Tempus fugit… a cackling voice repeated over and over in her mind as she sunk to her knees.

 

ticktock forum theluminarium net
Courtesy forum.theluminarium.net

 

Written in the context of FRIDAY FICTION with RONOVAN WRITES Prompt Challenge #9

Ping back and rules here

 

 

Miles Davis – Tempus Fugit

SPECTRE Soundtrack – 19. Tempus Fugit by Thomas Newman

Sam Smith – Writing’s On The Wall

Los Muertos Vivos Estan (Movie Version) (“Spectre” soundtrack)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tiGNdaCiWRY

My Heart will not sleep

My Heart will not sleep

3 January 2016

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Courtesy pinterest.com

 

The mind called awake

To spirits that roamed in clouds

Genies and moonbeams

 

Eyes sunk horizons

Over the face of the night

As the moon breathed white

 

The soul in waking

Stood upon brink of morrow

Between hope and life

 

Once upon a Time

Between sorrow and blue rhyme

I saw morning light

 

god imgarcade com
Courtesy imgarcade.com

 

Eyes scorched through the night

Met sunrise like white waters

The stillness redeems

 

I saw you in me

Physical awareness hit

The borders succumbed

 

Seek no more the frame

Whispered waterfalls in me

Everywhere is you

 

god karipatterson com
Courtesy karipatterson.com

 

The rivers and seas

Joined with oceans in my soul

Sketched blue tidal waves

 

Play of ebb and flow

The shells left on the me shore

Spoke of Times’ matter

 

Matter cast away

Mind in wraps soul in light sparks

I walk the heavens

 

Eyelids will flutter

The racing of worlds in me

My Heart will not sleep

 

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Courtesy dailymail.co.uk

 

Shams Tabrizi: My Path to God

 

 

Through Time I float

Through Time I float

30 December 2015

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Coil

Of Pearls

They entwine

Circling my throat

Freefall of white tears

Candles of light breathe low

Into bright morrows soul wakes

None walk within jaded white strides

Striped feathers sought in a safe blemish

Will of Heart strives in penance to slow Times

Mind from Heart spacing rejects tarnish

Moon beckons through rising of tides

Ghosts of spirit will quell snakes

Blank hiss that subsides slow

Withdrawal dries fears

Through Time I float

Now combine

The twirls

Foil

 

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Courtesy thebeautifullist.com

 

 

Where are you – Coil

 

 

Healing prayer

Healing prayer

28 December 2015

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Courtesy pinterest.com

 

As the New Year approaches and the old one fades into space somewhere in between atoms, I thought we should welcome the New Year with Healing wishes for the Earth and for all of us so I decided to recite another Dreamtime prayer.

 

I am publishing it early because I am not sure I will have time to write blogs before the New Year although I suspect I just may find enough time to do that. Let me elaborate a bit more on what I mean by Dreamtime.

 

For those who are not aware yet, most of my poetry flows and I feel like I am not fully the creator of the images and stanzas that flow on their own somehow (a strange sensation) and I feel very much like what I imagine could have spurred Rumi (one of my favourite poets) to write the poem “Who says words with my mouth” that I have also shared on this blog.

 

Perhaps all poets have this strange sensation when they write poetry that simply flows out of them and will not be contained. A lot of my poetry flows to me after a night’s sleep or a short nap with some even spurred by daydreaming. I have coined this as Dreamtime art because it is so linked with the sleep mode of my brain or sometimes the extremely relaxed mode (paradoxically extreme emotions can also cause the same flowing reaction but not always on the positive side).

 

In the same way that most of my poetry is connected to Dreamtime, I often dream about prayers with positive intent. Originally the prayers were mainly in French, English or Arabic but of recent I dream in other languages that I am not normally familiar with. For some reason I am certain they are prayers because I have been able to retrace some of the words to actual meanings on the web though I am not sure the other words are from the same language because the web simply comes up with nothing when I google the other words. Another reason that makes me feel this way is because I also get a wonderful, powerful feeling of a presence that identifies as the mother of all and indicates to me this is a positive intent prayer. Of course the rational mind’s description of this would be completely different I gather but for now we will stay with the irrational mind of the Heart.

Regarding this prayer, what I can say is it is meant to be a healing prayer. If any of you bloggers reading can make sense of the prayer as recited below and translate it, I would be much obliged. Else just enjoy it and allow the words to pervade you and heal you if possible 🙂

 

Healing prayer read by me

Rumi poem translated and read by Coleman Barks – Who says words with my mouth

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LHSclx-hIRc

The Human in me

The Human in me

15 December 2015

 

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Courtesy theguardian.com

 

 

I move slick

A charm enticing

Your wits weak

My fits seek

In between threads and laces

Convulsion extreme

 

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Courtesy sparkleray.buzznet.com

 

A tight sip

Like Havana’s blend

Chocolate

Mocha cream

My body exotic dream

For spirit supreme

 

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Courtesy computersight.com

 

Body dip

Like the latest trend

Go on let

Senses blur

Instil now breathing spaces

Between love and slur

 

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Courtesy pinterest.com

 

Robotic

Now switching commands

The whirring

The whining

Undeniably shining

The Human in me

 

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Courtesy bigboystoysuae.com

 

Human Behaviour – Björk

Hyperballad – Björk

All is Love – Björk

 

 

The Spirit Lovers – Chapter Seven: On Playgrounds and Kingdoms without a King

The Spirit Lovers

Chapter Seven: On playgrounds and Kingdoms without a King

8 December 2015

 

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Courtesy mysticmedusa.com

Mother came to Rita again, this time in broad daylight, her face a dark river of shimmering stars, the bluest of hues her black body.

  • What are these talks of going elsewhere?

 

Rita felt as always when she saw Mother torn between Shaking awe and powerful solace

 

  • Well you told me Mother that this place would be no more and that we would all live in another place, very different from here so I was just getting myself ready for the journey, knowing it would be long
  • It could be, yes but where do you think it is? Some distant planet that I have chosen for you? Another universe perhaps?
  • The ground shook under her step and the air vibrated with her presence as she walked, a figure of grace and power all at once
  • I don’t know Mother. Another galaxy, yes, I assumed
  • You assume a lot child. When you don’t know why don’t you just ask me?

 

A smile tugged at the corners of what Rita imagined were her lips. It was not really that she had a face but Rita could see in that river something that replicated an image of what she thought a human face would look like. Rita volunteered a smile back and Mother laughed so Rita laughed too, at first with a sense of guilt and then freely with the wildest of joys as the room heaved and shook with their laughter and the frames from the wall strew the grounds in fits.

 

  • I shall ask you next time Mother. Rita’s voice was between a hiccup and a snigger, the laughs still Shaking her uncontrollably
  • The journey within can be long but you know best what this place will be like because you will be one of the builders.
  • Me? One of which builders? How many are we? How much time do we have?
  • Oh Time, that silly notion I put in place a long time ago for us to measure the dilation of your playgrounds. I think you don’t need to worry about that anymore soon.
  • Are we going to a place of zero-point? Will we reach full stillness, no Time?

She laughed again and Rita laughed too though less heartily as she was keen on having Mother answer before she left.

 

  • What is zero-point? Do you still ask me really the question, child? Have I not left more impact on such matters with you before?
  • It is the point of implosion, when Time will disappear and our bodies will transform, right? It is the bridge between the playgrounds.

 

Mother was listening to Rita, a little twirl in her like every time Rita knew she was pleased with her response.

  • Do you know why you are changing playgrounds?
  • I think it is because we have outgrown this one. We don’t know what to do anymore here and most of us are getting bored, with some creating new games in the playground which are not to everyone’s liking or others playing the sae games that we are sick and tired of playing. Yet they don’t care much when we tell them to stop, that it is not a nice game anymore and that we are tired of it, that we want to play a nicer and more interesting game.
  • Yes, well that is the old way of the male energy. It only knows destruction and return to void, unlike what you hold and some of you have marginalised your female energy. It was not a thing of a day, it took many light travels of your Time to achieve that.
  • But why was the female energy marginalised? Why not leave us alone?
  • Do you still wonder why? It is because you are the ones who create and play the most. When you arrived here, each of you had chosen which side of the energy you would be on because full balance would take you out of the playground and those who chose the male energy lost their touch with the full creation energy because it is the female energy that stirs the void into creation. In your reality, the female energy still needs the male energy to create within physical density but it does not in the realm of dreams and art which are expressions of your eternal being.
  • But there are many male artists, not just female artists.
  • Yes, being male or female is not just a matter of external appearance. Those who thus create have not withdrawn completely from the female energy but preserved it within them. Some, though very predominantly in the male energy, thrive on the energy they draw from the females they attract around them to stir their internal voids into creation.
  • If all males know whether consciously or unconsciously that females are essential to the game, why do they suppress us so? Why not just play along with us?
  • Have you not realised child that things are changing? More males are waking up to and accepting the female energy as it returns to them.
  • But at the same time such horrors are committed against women in so many places around the world. Not just women but also children. All these wars that bring desolation to the hearts of everyone and mostly to those of women and children, so many of them abused and broken
  • Yes my child but that is soon a thing of the past. Who else, other than females is so close to creation and playing?
  • Oh yes, children of course!
  • Precisely my child, they do that because they don’t want to change playgrounds. They try to keep you in fear and in anger so that you will lose hope, love, laughter and therefore the possibility to continue creating the new playgrounds. They create a vicious circle by which you enslave yourself into this playground, forced to play with the bullies they have become and that way you would never have enough material to create another playground. By attempting to keep you in that vicious circle, they attempt to never leave this playground where they can rule like the tyrant children they have become but both father and I are tired. We have to shake all of you back into your senses and we can’t choose which ones to shake because you have all created a common playground. Your playground heaves, it is soaked in waters, it is seared by flames that all of you may finally understand that this playground is not for you anymore, that it is time to go to the new playgrounds.
  • Transform or die?
  • Not exactly my child. Understand when the game is over and move on to the new game, pick up the code and learn the new rules that you might not be taken aback but fear not, the rules are precisely those. Not to fear. Only to Love, freely, wholly and uncontrollably.
  • But what then of detachment? The wise ones speak of detachment and of not allowing oneself to get attached. How do you love wholly and uncontrollably and at the same time not get attached?
  • Well I have to say that the notion of detachment you are all playing with is not the one we had in mind when we originally set the rules of your playground. Your detachment has become a sense of nothingness, a dull grey of being while the detachment we had in mind was a shiny explosion of vibrant colours
  • How can one speak of detachment and explosion of colours. I don’t understand Mother…
  • It is simple really child. Detachment is that knowledge in you that everything you are playing with is merely a means for play and for learning something else that will help you in another playground. Nothing is for keeping forever because otherwise you would be playing all the time the same games with the same playthings. Have you not seen your children how they play with toys and then tire of them after a while and want something new to play with? Have you not noticed what they do if you force them to keep the same toys?
  • Yes, after a while they destroy them. Well actually I have noticed that it is more the boys who destroy the toys when they don’t want them anymore. The girls most of the time just go and sit by themselves or with each other if they have company, singing or playing with imaginary toys or friends.
  • Not just the girls, those boys with the female energy in them also do that.

A twinkle passes through what Rita feels are her eyes. Today she is not changing into a human-type form for Rita. She seems to be very taken by this whole matter of playgrounds and Rita’s misunderstanding of them. In fact she seems so taken that she has not even waited for Kayla or Kalen to accompany her but has come herself and right in the middle of the day.

  • So do you understand better detachment now?
  • I think I do Mother. Detachment is not caring less. In fact it is caring to the maximum point but knowing all the same that you will give away these means of playing and move to another level some day and if the means of play was not capable of transforming into a means for the next level into the next playground than we will never see those means again. We can continue to care for those means but we know that we will have to leave them and be in peace with the fact of leaving them.

 

She smiled and stars sparkled harder within her dark river. It shimmered in places again and Rita knew she was now extremely pleased with her. She slowly started materialising into a more human-type form and this always caused Rita such joy because she could actually look into Mother’s huge beautiful eyes full of power and compassion and be submerged by their infinity.

 

  • Mother, please tell me and don’t be angry with me. People speak of apocalypse, of the end of Times, of retribution and of the Day of Judgement. They say that God will decide who will go to Heaven and who will go to Hell based on our deeds and that we only have this Life, that we will need to redeem ourselves in it if we had committed sins.
  • Do you believe in Heaven and Hell, in God and in the Devil?
  • Well I believe that there is an energy of Love and an opposing energy of Fear and that perhaps we can call these God and the Devil if we think in our human terms.
  • Hmmmm…. Well, for the sake of argument in the sense that you like to use, let us say that there is a Devil, one with horns and hooves and with tattered wings from the Times that he was an angel before he was cast upon the Kingdoms of Hell as it goes by the teachings that were brought to you. People have given him such great powers maKing him akin to God alone though inferior in rank to him as the belief goes. What according to you would happen to the Devil on Judgement Day?

 

The question took Rita by surprise. She had never thought about that and was not sure anybody had actually thought about that. Yes, true, what would happen to the Devil on Judgement Day? Rita thought to herself.

  • Well I guess he would be punished like all the evil-doers and he would be…
  • Cast to Hell?

 

The irony in her voice was palpable as her human-type body now clearly shook with mirth. Rita was slowly getting the point of what she was trying to say. If on Judgement Day the Devil got cast to hell, he was merely being sent back to his own Kingdom where he would reign as a King again and no subject of that Kingdom would dare question the King. So in all likelihood on Judgement Day the Devil would actually be rewarded and with royal title, just like he was while moving all those wrong-doers to carry out their ill-advised deeds. But if it was so then why would he be rewarded while they would be banished to his Kingdom and tortured while he, the one behind all their misdeeds would be thriving in a Kingdom where he could do as he please while he was the true culprit really?

 

Mother was watching Rita closely and this latter could feel Mother’s watchful intent eyes upon her as her face betrayed her inner turmoil and confusion of thoughts. Rita gave up at last trying to reason internally and volunteered a partial response.

 

  • It would not be right I presume
  • Why not? Could he not be cast to hell and not be a King there?
  • Well there cannot be a Kingdom without a King. If there is one, then he is the Devil but the old Devil would be no more because we are normally on Judgement Day where only God would be ruling. If the Devil is no more, then he would be a mortal being judged for his misdeeds and if he were a mortal then he is not to blame really because it would be the Devil who would be the true culprit but that Devil was just put in place to be the King of the Kingdom and who could be put in that place on Judgement Day if there are no more real Devils and only mortals, The Old Devil and God with his angels. Would another angel be sacrificed to play the part of the New Devil? That would be a monstrous fate and would it really be Judgement Day if we had a New Devil in place? Would God have to take that part for himself? If he did would that not be twice the monstrosity? Would those of us who carried out the misdeeds have to condemn ourselves to be the Devil and would we have to cast ourselves into Hell and torture ourselves? Would we all be the King or would we take turns in being the Devil King? If we were the King, would we not be able to do as we please within our own Kingdom?

 

The more Rita thought about it, the less it made sense. Mother merely smiled at her knowingly. She came closer to Rita, lifting her chin and looKing her again straight in the Eye.

 

  • Yes, there cannot be a Kingdom without a King and where there is no King there can be no Kingdom. So on Judgement Day as most of you would have it, there would be no Judgement and no means of executing that Judgement. Do you understand now?
  • There will be no Judgement Day. Just the Day we are all together again with the Source of all things. Is that why there are these playgrounds, so that we may slowly act out different levels of the game of life?
  • Not exactly? Father and I wanted to test various scenarios but it was not just about life, it was about life and death and everything in between. It was about creation and the transformation of the energy. How it could come about, how it would evolve and what it would evolve into. It is now Time for other playgrounds. This one is saturated by the same playing and playthings and your nimble consciousness needs novelty, new fields, new experiences, new ways of expanding. Did we not tell you before? In fact we even left it within all your textbooks as there are not just playthings for children but also things to learn from within your textbooks. We told you that we created you in our image because you are miniature representations of us. You remember the talk about the archetypes you had with Kayla and Kalen, it is precisely that. Now it is time to have those archetypes evolve further into their purer forms and this entails leaving this playground to go to the next.
  • I rather liked it here. I will miss it.
  • That is why you have to learn to detach my darling child but never stop experiencing that flow of sensations, that burst of colours within your chest and behind your eyes because it is the fabric of your future playgrounds and you will need to keep weaving it because there will be nothing left here soon.

 

Rita looked around, soaking in the sun far behind the houses, moving slowly towards the higher point of skies and sighed. She did not want to tell it to Mother again but she would really miss this playground. It was so beautiful and Rita was having a hard time giving up the toys she had played with here. She still felt there was so much to learn here but Mother seemed to think that it was Time for her to move to the other playground. Rita sighed again. The sun was sparkling on the small puddle in the lawn left by the rain and it made her think of Mother again as it bore the remnants of the starlight that ran through her rivers.

 

Rita sighed again as she looked back to the blue skies stretching in the horizons, behind Mother’s frame. She had a fleeting thought for Martin but realised that like all the other means of play in this playground, she had to let him too go. He was still so bent on playing within this playground and his main playthings were void and destruction with only distorted waves of the Love. She knew without Mother or Kayla needing to tell her that a phase in the growth of her Heart was over and Martin belonged to that phase – at least for now. He was not ready to move into the new playgrounds and kept alternating between blabbering indistinctly about the love of some of his toys, yelling sorely at Mother and Father or throwing some of his old or new toys in rage with tears of anger and madness streaming down his darkened face.

 

Mother merely smiled at her when she looked back to her and she knew that Mother knew so she smiled back, a smile of relief and gratitude for her caring. All Mothers always know what goes on in their children’s mind. Sometimes they pretend not to know because they want their child to feel that it has its own secret garden but Rita understood in her Heart of Hearts that Mother knew as certainly as she herself had looked upon her children’s faces in times that troubled them and knew. She just knew.

 

 

 

Nattura – Bjork

Tell me a Story – 1927

Children of the Earth – Josh Garrels

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WRjdWJrH4T0

Mother’s spirits had risen

Mother’s spirits had risen

28 November 2015

 

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Courtesy YouTube.com

 

The sun regained cold

Petunias withered up

White and pink faces

Soft pastels played in my Heart

A bridge of purple faded

 

Dhyana_20x24
Jia Lu 2014 Dhyāna” oil on canvas 20×24 inches

 

Citrus evergreen

Haunted by orange speckles

Bore timid blossoms

A shade of penance hung low

Within branches of my thoughts

 

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Courtesy YouTube.com

 

Hibiscus rose red

Tussled with bougainvillea

Prominent flowers

The crimson in my mind’s shades

Spoke of bleeding memories

 

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Frangipani bloomed

Delicate orange on white

Its scent thief of Hearts

Captured throb within ribcage

Sought bloom’s renewed tenderness

 

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Courtesy knightofleo.tumblr.com

 

 

Grass ran through Earth’s brown

Carpet of fresh green kingdoms

Grasshoppers’ domain

Mother’s sprits had risen

Winding through me a new hope

 

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The moon rose silver

Exhaling through jasmine’s breath

Faint springtime’s treasures

Hushed feeling of renewal

Coursed through my Heart lily white

 

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Amethystium – Enchantment

Amethystium..Treasure ( Isabliss )(Stine Mari Langstrand)

Amethystium – Strangely Beautiful