Havent written in some time
maybe resisting to expose misleading thoughts to this perfect untamable water reflecting the moon.
Ego has been the reflection insisting to be heard
but the battle was won …. no space to be torn..
Nowhere to land, walking on sand knowing that lessons are one single point of light in the infinity width of the sky on a clear perfect summery night …
More layers or learning to walk better?
Strength or Surrender ness?
Adaptation or Resignation?
The more I live the less I understand
Wisdom is not clarity but the confusion of seeing too much and the capacity of accepting what is…
Getting older is knowing that life is unpredictable as the souls we get to encounter , as the unstable weather on a tropical
night where a storm welcomes the stars and the moon becomes a spark of bliss.
Maturity is awareness not aging;
getting older is an easy predictable process but not a synonym of inner growth.
How is it called when our space is in between when we are nor yellow nor green
when sadness is the space of comfort as no direction is bringing us purpose ?
how to choose a destination to feel alive and with determination?…..
So here I am writing again thinking aloud about life and its innermost turns of the soul as if they were able to give me clarity
to undiscovered disclosures of this unpredictable pathway back home.
From every side pushed,
From every edge pressed
From every angle tested;
Guilt being used to shake things up
Fear to bring me back to the preconceived mold;
Flexible as an elastic band stretching,
Being brought to the ground abruptly,
Tension in the air
Peace in her soul
Segmented, judged, classified, routed with nonstop spoken words and infinite silences.
The little hole in the sky keeps her alive
The little light in her heart keeps her breathing
A fight for freedom of choice and courage to remain flying….
The road is bumpy. Fog and uncertainty ruling the way , but this walk cant be interrupted as The only way to live is to walk her walk
crushing against this invisible wall between us, pretending that any hole we make will connect us as one….
an illusion it is, as our ways have shifted and our perception has morphed ….
fading slowly the idealized laze flowing smoothly down the waterfall of broken dreams and platonic heroes….
How can we find a way to blend our clashing nature invigorating our essences to emerge?
How can we bridge dissimilar blossoming paths and co-create a versatile anew life roadway ?
What would it be if we learn to be a different me, us, we unexpected and unseen?
Society still influences the rights and the wrongs of this wonder- full life designed to be preened with passions and dreams authentic as sheen, uneasy but ignited with every moon in the sky, bringing renewal as a daily choice.
We craft our days in heat and devotion or we darken our days in confusion and pain.
The only thing she claims is the freedom to be a full version of hers in this life she chooses to ride under thunder and sunshine looking only for truth under nobody else’s roofs.
she wont hurt your life
as she is only love-made hidden behind the costume of zeal and susceptibility.
coalition or demolition?
When finding himself, he was losing himself
The more he saw the more he got drowned.
Reality didn’t bring the well seeked clarity that day.
Confusion didn’t bring the typical daily delusion but neither clarity nor ease that day.
Walking and walking he was trying to find a solution.
Slowly and slowly he thought, as if waiting for answers to come unexpectedly from the sun was certainly happening.
His emptiness felt so dark
no matter how bright his sparks were, as unseen by his third eye they lived in mystery.
He wanted to Dive as if the water would clean his shade
He wanted to fly, as if the air up there would erase his pain.
He wanted to run, as if speed would burn the void inside.
……but all he did was stay, in a stillness mode , where the non thinking mind was the one to answer this time.
Windows reflecting her image distorted of how she feels she is,
as memories come to her mind suddenly.
This walk was a never-ending roller-coaster
who was she without that mask?
….the best actress is not the authentic but the ticket seller
what do you do when you dont know what to do but still have to do it?
unclear is the surface of the tangible ground when mostly what you see is just part of the script.
Uncertain of directions perceiving a void when the known is far away and there’s no wall to lay on.
What if heart chooses, and mind is in disagreement?
Excuse me Sir, where is this life’s manual?
I dont want to go against the law
but … what if it makes me happy not to please anyone else?
This sadness is brought by the uncertainty of path
the rate race of dreams that walk without direction….
How can we feel fulfilled
How can we fly up high and feel alive?
How can we feel purposed even when nobody else sees that in us?
she feels alone
she feels non understood
where can she go….?
So much pain so hard to explain
down here in the rain pretending He is vain
Where should He go what should he do…no matter what happens he still thinks of you.
Somewhere in the dessert where plants tend to die, he handles a flower, pretending to fly.
Faraway lands expecting arrivals of wisdom and canvas ready to be re-designed
This emptiness feels like a summer debris refusing to be , eternal bliss
what is to die, but to be only naked in our mind, not speaking aloud our truth to survive.
If only he could leave this space of hollowness fulfilling the gap with love and with trust, believing he must fly and shine like a star in the middle of the sky somewhere up high.
In love he is destroyed In love he is delighted no roof and no ground to feel this alive
As blessed as intrigued with sorrow and bliss
believing exists this heaven in his list.
The maze has no end but trouble and pain
Why should he stay when the rain is on its way
Why should he pray, when he only has today
as tomorrow is blossoming and yesterday is dead.
Does it exist?
Does True Love exist?
So many poems and lyrics
so many phrases and quotes
so many thunders and sunshines above of it all.
Below the surface there’s reality there’s pain and there’s doubt, in a world of ever-growing bouts….
Where is this going, this pain is overflowing….
This empty space goes deep to touch base, trying to win some random race nonexistent to the eyes but clear as a vase.
Could it be platonic?
Could it be the mystical in love with love… that as a cloud it can hide whats real and loud under the eyes of the cowed that screams so aloud to be heard….?
Visiting and staying… or changing its route as simple as the seasons that without any reasons they move to horizons untouched as raw diamonds.
A knot in the throat from unspoken thoughts, painful as shots is the distortion of Love
where is the feeling?
which is its location?
where do you carry it when you pretend you dont have it….
She looks for connection instead of words and deceptions
She looks for a soulmate as if they truly exist in a world of beliefs, of seasons and cliffs, of reasons and fees.
She wants to believe
She wants to retrieve
She wants to forgive herself for this feeling as deep as the core of oceans and shores so strong and life changing as winds of renewal that shower the pain with truth and with rain.
The message is clear
refusing to hear
this inner voice fear
provoking these tears
Neglecting her space
of laughter and grace
shadowing her face from liberty.
What is it out there, so tempting to wear?
What is it in here… that she expects to tear?
The Sun is still shining, no matter whats coming
The sky is still vast as it ever lasts
You, Me, Him, Her pretending to hide reality from society
The lights wont chase us as darkness lands.
Setting wings free into the sky full of shining pearls and wonder moons fooling the ones with a type of blindness called ignorance that blocks the unquestionable , from flowing.
What about stepping on layers of experienced mistakes becoming taller to spy across the tall fence of life truth ‘s?
Is that possible?
She walks alone
Experienced mastered her in learning her power.
Illusions frustrated expectations.
And choices blocked possibilities.
She walks detached from judgement and whining , from comments and rhyming.
She walks unlatched from handles and leashes facing her wishes confidently unscratched.
The power of being in a world of believing that magic exists in this list I cant resist
Unwritten she goes designing her path and recreating it as a piece of art being recycled by time and use, life chooses its own way moved by passions and adrenaline
How wise and essential mind is in this journey?
Are choices meant to be born in heart or mind?
what if heart chooses and mind is in disagreement?
Excuse me Sir, where is this life’s manual?
I dont want to go against the law
but … will that make me happy?
Decisions are a duality where separation is present
Present should be whole, integration, union
Can we have it all?
She was at the top of the hill of enjoyment, where no future or past had any participation
Happiness is based on that detachment from control and manipulation of the unknown….
The flow guaranties the enjoyment of whatever comes our way….
Feel, Breath, Meditate, Let go
When mind is stopped and heart is postponed, the umbilical gut feeling arises allowing the choices of Truth to manifest
So send mind nite nite 🙂