Poem

What is, shall be. What is not, shall not be

It was one of those days when you could feel the silence that lingered within the room as though it had crept into your being and quieted everything down. A serene sense of peace smothered you as the silence settled in. You didn’t resist it. You didn’t even try to stop it, but rather you just welcomed it in. Closely with it you sat, as if you were holding its hand tightly and could feel the warmth entangled between both of your fingers. There was never an ounce of doubt in your mind that it would let go of your hand to make its way out, because with its invitation came a knowingness of “What is, shall be. What is not, shall not be”. That was your way of allowing the presence of peace to come forth and take you into its embrace. Together all three of you sat, hand in hand, heart in heart, blissfully cohabiting the same space, but in three very different ways. It was what was felt that really mattered, not what was seen or heard. For just being seen and heard meant something different than feeling. Feeling was the language of lovers, for it was the only thing that has the ability to dissolve, tear apart and remove walls or even mountains. It didn’t need a reason or perfect timing, it came either invited or as a guest. Because of its utter belief in all things unique, beautiful and true. It entered as a gentle glow of a candlelight in a dark room to ignite and lighten the darkness that somberly rested all around it. That was enough for it. It didn’t want anything more or desired anything different, for its only real task was one of light, truth and love. To open all hearts to such a thing because its heart wasn’t any different than anyone else’s, it knew that. And it was sharing with others its knowing. It was sharing its glow and igniting the unlit torches of the soul into magical flames of energy and absolute truth of being, the divine infinity of its own creation.

{KP 11.18.13}

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Is

She sat between now and here, the here and now of living.
As she awoke to the moment,
It shone upon her like the sun’s golden rays,
Pure bliss and joy molded her into it.
She became,
Yet she just is.

Something Untitled

Being has nothing to do with definition.
Its an essence of an aroma that lingers with every breathe you take.
Being is to the level of awaken and aliveness you present in each moment.
A knowing that you are as you are: complete, whole and perfect,
Without any labels, nouns or titles attached.
You are the barebones of a great work of art, a masterpiece.

Stillness

Sometimes I sit and wonder
At all the marvel beauty.
Its so endless and unconfined
It emerges from nothing and floats back to nothing.
Its sincere and reads the lines of truth,
No form of pleasing or proving
Its just an essence,
A true depiction of creation and wholeness.
Its sings the hymns of love,
And dances in the breeze of freedom.
No apologies or worries
Its like a breathe of fresh air,
a white fluffy could drifting in the sky
And the light of the moon shinning down on water.