bring sets of armor and gear,
crates of nourishment and safety nets
to places barren, chaotic, or unforgiving,
and hope that one shall survive.
one could bring it all,
yet the Only thing
that does not rot, erode,
or become molded over
amidst the commotions
of endless Wilderness,
remains a True Love’s
Touch.
does the journey across the sand dunes appear much more sacred, and far less futile, when a glimpse of the green pastures comes in view?
the same notion can present itself in millions of ways, and we will never cease to be fascinated by it—for all the good reasons in living
even in much direction-less times, there are those who come to aid with their calming whispers
how man obscures itself from the truth with all its constructs
She looks
In dark amber,
Bright eyes—
Watery,
unclouded
Windows—
from them
hidden Purities
of a gray world
are reflected.
No
Heavenly Saint,
But she thanks
for the slightest things,
And Virtues
does she audaciously
Address,
that because of Her,
My feet are rinsed
Ever clean.
“Our significance isn’t found in fame or fortune, but in knowledge that we have been links in the great Cosmic chain. Our faithfulness, even in obscurity, will yield results that can only be calculated in eternity.”
—anonymous.
Forget me not
For offering always
this Black, Tainted—
but Genuine—
and still Naive
Heart.
short lived gems of early spring; silent and swift they will perish in the inevitable visit of the dousing winds
“Only by taking yearning to its mortal limit can youth be wholly known.”
—R.H.
Particular Moments 