what else can she do
but wait for his cocoon to open
on its own time
she cannot open it for him
though he secretly wishes she would
to free him of his prison
she knows its in the struggle that he grows
she can relax though
she gets forever afterall
because he walked into her dream with a purpose
to never leave
© r.e.l. 6/29/10
**this post is for Poetry Potluck Week 15 (reflections, interpretations, and musings) on Jingle Poetry
Do we hold true to its energy every second of the class? No. We tuck it away in our heart and let it speak its own words to our soul.
For, the energy of a wish comes from within us and can hardly hide its wings when we are moving the prana as we move our bodies in twists and waves.
What we feel comes from within. Before the words even articulate themselves to our being, we know what it is we are trying to say.
Sometimes we are silenced. Sometimes this is a blessing. In this inability to find words, our soul is telling us to go deeper. Look into the still pond of your being. Do not always rely on words. Look to the swirling space that doesn’t want to hear your words and give it your thanks.
There is more to living.
© r.e.l. 6/29/10
© r.e.l. 6/28/10
hide with me
now in our covers
you are my love
© r.e.l. 6/27/10
photo by Beyond Your Destiny
the missing stone on your path
find me at the edge
near the bridge i see you on now
in the cold
you see me waiting
with your words
don’t ever change who you are
© r.e.l. 6/25/10
Featured in All Things Poetic, Artistic, Philosophical on redbubble
“I know you think you understand what I said, but what you don’t understand is what I said is not what I mean.”
For some reason I feel the two have relation in what I’m trying to say to myself in this moment.
This bridge encapsulates a journey into the unknown somehow. To walk out onto this bridge into the fog along a treacherous cliff along old cobblestone seems precarious to say the least.
Yet, it draws me in. If I were faced with this bridge in this moment, I would surely put one step in front of the other and venture out onto it.
It metaphorically speaks to the wish to know more about the unknown, what I actually feel, and what loved ones actually mean behind their words. We can find it difficult to put our thoughts together into words sometimes. It is in this difficulty that our unsure words simply open up more questions and more uncertainty, as if the attempt to communicate with another takes the lid off of their secret bottle where they live.
It is true within our own selves as well. In a strange way I feel that the way to find out the true meaning of what I am trying to say right now to myself can best be found by walking across this bridge in the mist. If I sit out on that point, I think I will find the answer.
© r.e.l. 6/25/10
air to breathe
me, himself, us
the clouds will part
the moment he opens
again… when he cannot
imagine this life without me
when he forgives with no conditions
his wind will reach me and caress the back
of my neck… and will tell me “you will know, love,
when i am in the sky coming back to you… don’t worry”
© r.e.l. 6/24/10
you kept me safe
so that i could go on my path
although i owe you a lot
i no longer need you
i let the water
wash you away now
slowly it drips
so that i no longer have to pretend
are stronger than me
© r.e.l. 6/23/10
photo on wikimedia (edited by r.e.l.)
Picking up where I left off in my article on an inquiry into your nature…
The idea of participatory spirituality has some more juice in me at the moment. First, I’ve been on a tangent speaking of shyness and opening up about my true expression. As if in a bit of a conundrum, I go back and forth in my life between befriending stillness and befriending the gems inside me that I can only get to by stirring up the darkness to see what’s lurking beneath that surface.
From the words of a song, “I swear that I can feel you creeping underneath my skin. It feels like heaven to me sometimes.” The feeling is all-encompassing. There is a quality of light within the dark — a yin/yang. The love is what I feel.
I can feel a side of me inside reaching out for expression, asking gently to not vaporize the energy of the expression into an emptiness, thereby bypassing it all together. It is telling me that there is much to be learned in feeling this darkness that I hide within the armor I’ve built like a child building a sand castle.
Sand is a good metaphor for this armor. It is made of rock, symbolizing strength. After many years of weather it can harden to an impenetrable substance, but if air continually moves through the tiny spaces (e.g., breath) between each grain, the wall can easily be knocked down in its softness. A simple symbolic hand can do the trick with one violent strike. Alternatively, I could douse it with my watery essence in a waterfall, or a slow drip to eat away at it slowly.
A soothing Italian proverb leads the way in my life now: “Chi va piano va sano va lontano. Chi va forte va alla morte.” Who goes slowly, goes healthy and far. Who goes fast, goes faster to death.
Taking time with the precious gems is most important. They have been in the dark so long, so once they see the light do I expect them to acclimate immediately? Give them time to adjust and evolve to become one with me again in their new form, with light shone upon them.
If I do they will become like a dream that I’ve always imagined but could never reach. Not until now at least.
© r.e.l. 6/23/10
© r.e.l. 6/22/10
I appreciate many forms of life: people, viewpoints, spirituality, yoga, words. I notice that it is common for people to tag a style of being in the world, which then closes them off to other inspirations that could come spontaneously, from afar, from within, or sometimes right in front of their own face.
There is a misty quality to knowing you are on the right path, regardless of the unknown.
I follow the mist……..
There are as many ways to grow and evolve as to be uncountable. We all have our own way, and to follow another’s way is to not fully engage with your own inner guidance. I am influenced by many modes of thought but always, in the end, I follow my own truth.
listen my love,
illumination is eternal.
now is always evolving.
as there are billions of stars,
there are billions of steps.
as there are billions of souls,
there are billions of ways to grow.
In fact, my yoga practice has taught me this as well. With my many experiences with yoga styles and traditions, in the end I most enjoy the vinyasa flow style which allows me to organically lead myself to where I’m headed in that moment. This leads me to my own way of growing.
I listen to my body as I would music, as I move and unlock the secret messages hidden within the spaces of my being.
I am listening now. It whispers to me that the answer is to keep listening.
© r.e.l. 6/19/10
I’m reading the book “The Time Traveler’s Wife” after seeing the movie a couple months ago. It felt that somehow there is a message in it for my destiny — a sort of answer to my life. Not that I am a time-traveler or know of one, but that I am fascinated by time and any talk of past, present and future relating in ways other than chronological. I love to wrap my mind around Einstein’s thoughts on time and that there is no such thing as linear time; we made it up.
Of course it’s a love story that touches my heart. He always returns to her. And there are similarities with her knowing she is doing what she has to do for love, despite the waiting and loneliness, that mimics my life. But it’s the notion of time that brings me to write now.
They meet in different stages of their life, spontaneously. How often do I wonder what the person I love looked like and sounded like in future years, or in past years. And how would we be together at different ages, different age gaps, and different stages of life. It is a story to remind me that age and time do not matter when it comes to love. Love is the victor in the end. True love is timeless and never ends. It is the beginning and the ending.
© r.e.l. 6/16/10
in my mind
i see much that is false
but when your light
shines upon me, upon you
like a star, étoile brillante
the false, the imprisoned
and all that remains is
that which is authentic
the unbelievable truth…
look through the window,
detects only that which
can survive the darkest days
it removes the rest
leaving us with
all that we dreamed
to see the end, look at the beginning
it whispers to you
–>> remember us.
© r.e.l. 6/13/10
in the space absent of you
i have more power to give.
your answer to life was me
all questions answered
since the first day i came
into your heart
and i in you
you are a resonance
of my perfect heart
you looked after me like a brother
a best friend.
i find now
that in letting go of something
there is a hidden treasure
to be found
in the experience.
i have found what means the most.
© r.e.l. 6/4/10
this post is for Poetry Potluck Week 14 on Jingle Poetry
thanks so much to Jingle for this Best Poet Friend Award on Jingle Poetry