Monday, March 31, 2014

I'm at the empty poem-bottom of life
falling through hope deeper than deep
down to a nowhere-somewhere
where my soul blindly sulks

Must hang on to that nothing
falling free, bumping into space
the walls of which are darkness
the groans of which, unhinged

Tis a journey to a new land
where surprises lay in the breeze
and flowers sprout  to blossom
my blood longing to Spring

The sun will bring new insights
the moon-still night delights
and God will be my life-shield
causing demons to book their flight

The drop requires much patience
a suff'ring truth, a dread
with pounding on the down-swing
kneading me into bread

Can't tell where I'll end-up
but up is where I'll end
though my feet flounder while falling
the bottom will be my friend

I'm running on the edge of tomorrow
waking in hope of life today
being true to my feat's inspiring
discovering me along the way



The great moment of my life will be death, to die by choice, giving myself to Love, in freedom, with no turning back-a holy release.



We are all beautiful before we grow old.  But it is when we grow wise that we are more beautiful than youth.

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