"Have you found love?"
I was asked in a dream
"Have you looked far and wide?"
I did not know how to answer
Did not know what to think
I found I was crying
when I finally woke
I tried to figure out why
but instead I just sobbed
and I couldn't stop
To this day I remember the tears
but still cannot remember why
Saturday, December 16, 2017
Saturday, December 2, 2017
What is the real love?
My love has caused me pain
My love has caused me sorrow
Without my love
There is no need for tomorrow
Letting it be a state of being
A sense of knowing
The reason for living
Letting it come and letting it go
Realizing it is nothing more
Than a moment of essence
A connection with someone else's moment
Sharing a fleeting epiphany through
a glance in their eyes
Having that identical jolt
Of Aha!
Of Wow!
Of Oh!
The unexpected bubble pop with its
transparent firework explosion of
what momentarily contained that
thing that is now released to the
ether of the universe.
I am beyond that love that everyone
scrambles for.
Desperate to find and hold and keep and possess.
I have experienced it before
more than once
Suffering with self-doubt
Jealousies and suspicions
Finally coming out the other side
And seeing that its permanence
is illusion
Finding that its importance is
based in creating my sense of self,
my essence of being,
and in its process it destroys
what we all strive to make it
create.
I do not say it is unimportant
but the true importance lies in
recognizing that THAT love
is not the real love
not the deep love
not the soul love
not the universal love
That love is the thread that
sews us all together
every one of us
past, present and future
Human, animal, non-sentient,
the cycle, the reason,
The point of this all
is that there is no point
there is only the process
the journey
the passage
through time and space
beyond the real and into the realm
My love has caused me sorrow
Without my love
There is no need for tomorrow
Letting it be a state of being
A sense of knowing
The reason for living
Letting it come and letting it go
Realizing it is nothing more
Than a moment of essence
A connection with someone else's moment
Sharing a fleeting epiphany through
a glance in their eyes
Having that identical jolt
Of Aha!
Of Wow!
Of Oh!
The unexpected bubble pop with its
transparent firework explosion of
what momentarily contained that
thing that is now released to the
ether of the universe.
I am beyond that love that everyone
scrambles for.
Desperate to find and hold and keep and possess.
I have experienced it before
more than once
Suffering with self-doubt
Jealousies and suspicions
Finally coming out the other side
And seeing that its permanence
is illusion
Finding that its importance is
based in creating my sense of self,
my essence of being,
and in its process it destroys
what we all strive to make it
create.
I do not say it is unimportant
but the true importance lies in
recognizing that THAT love
is not the real love
not the deep love
not the soul love
not the universal love
That love is the thread that
sews us all together
every one of us
past, present and future
Human, animal, non-sentient,
the cycle, the reason,
The point of this all
is that there is no point
there is only the process
the journey
the passage
through time and space
beyond the real and into the realm
HOME - Free Assoc Group 12/2/17
Free Assoc. 12/2/2017
Prompt Word - Home
Home, what does it mean
Is it where I am?
Where I am going?
A place from the past?
What is ahead in my future?
Does it mean people, things, abstracts?
Family, friends, memories?
I've had many places that I
Considered home at one time or another
Some short periods and some longer
Because of my evolution from
one version of myself to another
and then off I went to find
another home,
One that fit the new me well
Well, at the start anyway.
When I look back on these languid or staccato
stops along the way
the many places I've hung my hat
thrown my mattress
lived out of boxes
collected too many things
that contained the essence of the time there,
I smile because I can close my eyes
and see the view out of each window.
Feel the heat or the cold
Remember the regional accents and idiosyncracies
Recall the conversations and interactions
of the acquaintances and friends and loved ones that I
found, cultivated and connected with
that meant the world to me
THAT world to me
What a variety, what a gift
each adventure was
I could write a book
but would i really do any
period of time in any one place
its proper justice?
I can't imagine being able
to muster the narrative
or describe the scene
in such a way that would
build each universe,
really immerse the reader
in the 3 dimensional world
that each place meant to me.
It was never just the time.
It was never just the place.
It was never just the people
or the weather
or the experiences.
Perhaps it is a classic example
of the equation adding up to be much more
than the sum of its parts.
To this day it is very difficult for me to find the words
to get across to anyone who was not there at the time...
How magical this place was,
or how scary that moment was,
or how heart-breaking that outcome was.
Or how hard or simple it was to leave or stay
Or how exciting it was to move on to the next
Or how deeply some people burrowed into my heart
And how everyone I've ever met is still a part of me
And how i truly hope that I am still a part of them.
And how much everyone that I call friend,
or loved one,
or acquaintance,
or stranger
becomes part of what I call home at the moment
because it all becomes part of the blanket
I wrap around me at night when I am alone and safe beneath my roof.
And that is what I call home.
Prompt Word - Home
Home, what does it mean
Is it where I am?
Where I am going?
A place from the past?
What is ahead in my future?
Does it mean people, things, abstracts?
Family, friends, memories?
I've had many places that I
Considered home at one time or another
Some short periods and some longer
Because of my evolution from
one version of myself to another
and then off I went to find
another home,
One that fit the new me well
Well, at the start anyway.
When I look back on these languid or staccato
stops along the way
the many places I've hung my hat
thrown my mattress
lived out of boxes
collected too many things
that contained the essence of the time there,
I smile because I can close my eyes
and see the view out of each window.
Feel the heat or the cold
Remember the regional accents and idiosyncracies
Recall the conversations and interactions
of the acquaintances and friends and loved ones that I
found, cultivated and connected with
that meant the world to me
THAT world to me
What a variety, what a gift
each adventure was
I could write a book
but would i really do any
period of time in any one place
its proper justice?
I can't imagine being able
to muster the narrative
or describe the scene
in such a way that would
build each universe,
really immerse the reader
in the 3 dimensional world
that each place meant to me.
It was never just the time.
It was never just the place.
It was never just the people
or the weather
or the experiences.
Perhaps it is a classic example
of the equation adding up to be much more
than the sum of its parts.
To this day it is very difficult for me to find the words
to get across to anyone who was not there at the time...
How magical this place was,
or how scary that moment was,
or how heart-breaking that outcome was.
Or how hard or simple it was to leave or stay
Or how exciting it was to move on to the next
Or how deeply some people burrowed into my heart
And how everyone I've ever met is still a part of me
And how i truly hope that I am still a part of them.
And how much everyone that I call friend,
or loved one,
or acquaintance,
or stranger
becomes part of what I call home at the moment
because it all becomes part of the blanket
I wrap around me at night when I am alone and safe beneath my roof.
And that is what I call home.
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