Don’t feed me false whispers of dreams, come play in my fields…
They are green and blue … . filled with moons and stars.
Dont feed me empty kisses so sweet on the lips, taste mine instead they are full of hope and happiness, faith and love.
Dont wrap me in cotton with hidden knives, let me cover you in clovers and butterflies.
Touch me in those hidden places where I rise to creator, let your hands wonder in yours where you’ll find me.
Let the rain cover you till your soaked to the bone, surrender to madness its our way home.
And, if all is said, and when all is done we stand facing the call of a different drum.
Dont feed me false whispers of dreams … its our written threads that you rip at the seems.
Bitter sweet fruit bore the crops of my labour, I knowingly turned the other cheek.
Filled with hopes of a little girl, while being dragged through your beautiful deceit.
I would steal the rains for you, love you till the moon no longer rises…
But your love is bitter sweet, that killer sweet stuff, that’s killin’ me
He followed me here over lifetimes just to strip me naked, bare and alone, lost and forgotten like a little lamb trying to find it’s way home.
I found myself again though, climbed over the fence to the other side to meet my reflection, shattered in millions of pieces and more.
Piece by piece by piece I picked you all up with my little fingers as your shards cut me open yet still I didn’t let go. My little flame that followed me home.
Then
You left me by the wayside shivering with rage as my pride turned upon itself and declared war on all who dared come near! War in the face my biggest fear!
As the rains lashed over forgotten ships in the seas and the sands blew ashes of fire and brimstone over Kings and Queens of old.
KAli gave birth and born again we were clean and unsullied just like the first . . but
All was for nought because all I ever wanted was you . .
You who burn as bright as the moon and the stars
You who will always know why these silent tears slip through the light like rainbows on rainy days.
You who would dare steal the heart of gods and dash them out just as readily
You whose tender touch would make flowers bloom for we are galactic.
Never forget, you who play with heart strings to make the sweetest harmony resonate over stillness of time.
We are galactic, you who flew to the moon.
We are electric, you who knew the secret of her inner womb.
You . . Crystalline
A Zen Master had a disciple who was perpetually unhappy and dissatisfied. One day the disciple approached the Master and said, “Master, bless me too with your wisdom and help me find happiness.”
The old Master instructed the unhappy young man to put a handful of salt in a glass of water and drink it. “How does it taste?” the Master asked.
“Awful”, spat the young man.
The Master chuckled and then asked the young man to take another handful of salt and put it in the lake. The two walked in silence to the nearby lake and when the young man swirled his handful of salt into the lake, the Master said, “Now drink from the lake.”
As the water dripped down the young man’s chin, the Master asked, “How does it taste?”
“Good!” remarked the young man.
“Do you taste the salt?” asked the Master.
“No”, said the young man.
The Master sat beside this troubled young man, took his hands, and said, “The amount of pain in life remains the same, exactly the same. But the amount we taste the ‘pain’ depends on the container we put it into. So when you are in pain, the only thing you can do is to enlarge your sense of things. Stop being a glass. Be a lake!”
