The Key is by the Door

‘Nothing that happens is an isolated event; it only appears to be. The more we judge and label it, the more we isolate it. the wholeness of life becomes fragmented through our thinking. Yet the totality of life has brought this event about. It is part of the web of interconnectedness that is the cosmos.’

I want to try and explain who I am today, because it is not the same human being I was years ago, or even, months ago. It is true that the only constants is change, but for most, change creeps ever closer and wraps itself around you slowly, like ivy around an old house. For me change was a wrecking ball. And it hit me hard. I am left, lying in the rubble that was the life I haphazardly built for myself. Years ago, I was a very sad, beaten down, and angry young girl. I had much of nothing but grief from all sides. I was bullied, and ostracized by my peers. I was an outcast who ate lunch at break every day, completely alone, save for books (Thank God for books!).  For years after tragedy struck in the form of my father’s suicide, my displacement in large extended and very self-involved family and my abuse by a man I thought loved me, I became hard on the outside, and inside I was a mess of soft tissues. However, change had other plans for me. And I like to think that change is God’s way of getting things done. I eventually took all the poison of my past, and transmuted it into gold. Like an alchemist for souls, I wiped my karma clean. First, by facing the demons of my past that have soaked my present in gasoline. I scrubbed my wounds clean by examining the fissures, disinfecting and removing the shrapnel, and with this, figuring out what was wrong inside me. This was a very healing, but agonizing experience. I began to learn to treat myself kindly, although none had treated ME kindly before. Because I was hurt over and over I grew to feel great compassion for the suffering in this world. Blessed are you who loves the ant. Although all happens for a reason (even the darkness of night), I wanted to be a reason for people to smile, for people to have hope (just like the sun rising). I wanted to let people know there was a way to get better. The hardships of life do not need to destroy a person. In fact, for me, they made me the person I am today. They built me up! Strong willed, humorous and loving of all creatures, great and small. Once upon a time, I was a self-mutilator, I chose death and darkness. And I was very sad. I went to rehabilitation centres and psyche wards because my sadness was the bee all and end all of my existence, and I could no longer live that way. In fact, I no longer wanted to live at all. I had no friends, and my family did not understand me at all. I wasn’t a bad person, ever. I was a sensitive soul who loved nature and animals, and always wanted to help. But for a while the darkness took that away from me and I think I was a big brat for a long time. Then… I saw the light. There wasn’t a particular moment that I can remember, but rather a gradual change of perspective and events and people and places. There is a wonderful parable, about a man who travelled for the first time, and had many precious jewels to exchange for food and lodging, but he was a foreigner and could not speak the language of the people in the new country he was in. he wanted to take a boat to his next destination, but every time he tried to get passed the man at the door of the boat and inside, the man stopped him and would not let him pass. He tried to give him rubies so that he could have passage to the boat, but the a\ man said something in a foreign tongue and sent him away. He sat on the dock and watched many people enter the boat. He tried to ask them how they did it but could not understand what they told him. He was desolate. A wise man in the crowd saw him and took pity on him and so went up to him and pointed to a building close by. The man figured that going there would help him get to where he needed to go, and sure enough, at this little building, they sold tickets for the boat. He exchanged his jewels and was given a ticket, and so the man let him pass and he sailed away into the sunset… you see, the answer was right there, only he didn’t know how to find it and therefore thought he would be stuck forever. But with a little wisdom, direction and exchange of goods, he was on his way. Life is like that. My light… It was hidden like flame under a bushel in my heart. And I realised I liked who I was and what I wanted from this world. I could see such beauty in a sunset. The rain sliding down a window was magic. I began to realise God was in all of us and all around. I started to read about light workers and discover how not alone I really was. I opened myself up to the natural world around me, which had not one ounce of the cruelty human beings have. I became a little hermit, and a druid of sorts. My best friends were the trees. And I realised for nature there is no good or evil. There just IS. And so I began to love what IS, and to just BE the light, not force others to shine. I began to feel empathy for those in darkness. And I let myself feel that. I revelled in the human way of loving. For it is a magical gift, to love. And in doing so, in being what I believed in; love and compassion, I brought others to that. In a little ways I showed people how to smile again. And it was a marvellous thing to behold. A miracle. I went out into the world selflessly, and spread my new found wisdom by just being there. I didn’t feel the need to shout or bible bash. I just knew that by being what I believed in, that was enough. By writing, and singing, and painting and reading, I began to feel so much better. I started to look back and understand why I was hurt so. I became grateful for my wounds, because they got me thinking, and feeling, and exploring and probing, I began to discover what I never would have if my eyes had stayed shut. From pain I was shocked into living with my eyes wide open. I was no longer half drunk, half asleep, and therefore I knew that if I could feel this way, after so much tragedy, then so can anyone else. There was hope for humanity. Of course hardship would never cease to exist, for me or anyone else. But through finding light, I found humour, and started taking life with a teaspoon of sugar. I saw that what looked like a frown was a smile upside down. I began to focus my energies elsewhere. I wasn’t afraid of suffering anymore. Been there done that! ‘I looked my demons in the eyes, laid bare my chest, said, DO YOUR BEST, DESTROY ME! You see I have been to hell and back so many times I must admit, you kind of bore me’ I had a way forward, and I had a great and in-depth personal understanding of the way the world and its inhabitants worked. Sometimes it’s ugly, but at least it’s the truth, and I am a firm believer in the truth. And all that is hidden in its depths.

 I started to do yoga, and get into my body, I integrated all I had learnt from my suffering and did the opposite. Instead of hurting myself, now I would hug myself. It took much to make me happy with whom I was, because for years no one had been happy with me. I was too quiet, or too loud, I looked too much like a witch and not enough like everyone around me. I got good grades, I was a quick thinker, I wrote poetry , I was passionate and driven, I chose to surround myself with nature instead of people, I didn’t buy into drama or gossip, and I certainly didn’t want to bully anyone. For a while, I was a victim, and sad for my circumstances, but I shed that skin when I realised with all those traits, I could help others. Maybe in turn, that would help me. I wanted to be my own best friend. I felt like I had a calling, something bigger, and so all the hurt and dirt thrown my way was like training. Sometimes I still get sad because I still live in the same place where all the trouble started, and at times, there still is trouble. The people who bullied me and pushed me out of their circles still live here, and although they wouldn’t dare be mean to me now, I am still very alone, with only books and music and nature as friends. It’s so tight knit here, in such a small town, where no train ever stops and everyone knows everyone’s business. The friends I do have I made when I was a different person. When I was negative. Now I have big dreams and goals and a drive to make right in the world. To be the change I want to see. And so my friends and I don’t see eye to eye anymore, because they are busy partying it up and living off their parents and getting drunk… and it is very sad indeed, because they are all I have left holding me to this place. Sure I have my family, and we love one another very much, and try to support each other as best we possibly can. But so much has gone down, even recently, and we are a strange bunch. So much tragedy has fallen upon us and as much as it is over, there are scars that still remain, and imprints of the sad person I was are still burnt into their hearts. Therefore they do not treat me how I want to be treated. I am still that sick and sad girl, the clumsy, incapable little thing who is just ‘getting better’ and ‘doing so well’, they feel sorry for me. They feel sad that I don’t have friends, so they don’t want to leave me alone on weekends, and it makes me feel a little pathetic in their eyes. I can never just be; I always have to prove to them I am okay now. It makes me feel like a robot. I am always watchful of my emotions; i can never just BE when I am around them. I have to smile. Reassure. I love them so much that most of the time I don’t mind. But it is time for the wrecking ball of change to knock me off my feet and into a new place, where I am not under constant and unnecessary surveillance. If ii have a sad day, my mom wants me to take pills or see someone and she always wants to fix it that way. So I can never be sad around my family because they make me feel guilty for being so sad once upon a time. I know I put them through hell, unintentionally, when I wanted to kill myself those many years ago, but I hate how they walk on eggshells around me, or believe that I can’t get things done on my own, even though I have been showing them over and over that I can, and have. I don’t feel like her, the girl they remember, the one that traumatised them into acting this way, like I am a reformed mental patient. Which I suppose is what I am. But I needed to be that so that I can be this. I don’t feel like I have demons following me anymore, I don’t feel like a person who would have been bullied, or allowed a person to abuse me. I feel strong and self-confident and brave now. I feel beautiful and I know who I am. I feel KIND. But before I was so wrapped up in my pain, I don’t think I was very kind to anyone, especially myself. So there are still ghosts that haunt me here. And it is getting frustrating. I cannot convince people I am different, and that I can barely remember the past in the same way. I worked so hard to transmute it and make it something that picked me up. People are so surprised by this that they can barely believe it. So they try to push my buttons, or give me advice or make out that I am still insane. Why now? I barely ever see any of them anymore. I feel innocent in my soul, but perhaps because they are tainted by the impure thoughts they hold, they cannot see me for what I am. They cannot see the wood for the trees. I have grown so tall; I hurt my back to bend down and pretend to have things in common with these people. So now, I have dropped them, and that feels crazy for me too. To drop the only people who would still call me their friends. But what sort of friendship is it if they cannot accept me for who I am? I don’t know if I am expressing this all correctly. It’s so hard to put it into perspective, logically. Because this isn’t a logical thing. Miracles aren’t set in logic. They are made of much more fluid stuff. It is almost magic how different I am. Don’t get me wrong. I am STILL EXACTLY THE SAME. I am still me; I still feel the same things. I just don’t have that dirt piled on high anymore. I am me without the pain. And so I am who I was meant to be, always, who I am because of the pain and despite it. I changed but stayed exactly the same. Basically, I am more like my soul now than I ever was. I feel upright and clean and so this part of the world, which runs high with my past poisons, is no longer the place for me. I am not running away per say, as I have tried to right the wrongs and find people who are like minded. And in most ways I have succeeded, but in regards to people, I still haven’t found my pack. As I said, everyone knows everyone here and there is no way around that fact. I’m still the girl who got set on fire at school by the mean girls here. But to me, I am not that girl anymore. So I am making plans to leave this place, and to take on my real self fully. It is strange that I feel like I can only do that fully in a whole different country. But maybe it isn’t so strange. Maybe god has given me a second chance, because I deserve it. A second chance to be happy and put one foot in front of the other on a path that won’t hurt my feet. I am going into the world to be kind… to be light. And I am proud. I am proud of all I have endured to get to the point where I can be brave enough to throw it all away literally. I have already done it figuratively, which is why it’s so hard to be here still. It’s the reason I get so down sometimes. Because I have no one really to talk to about how I see the world, because what I see, I feel, needs to be shared. It needs to be felt. That there is hope, and beauty and everything is unfolding as it should. Hope has been a huge part of my life. Hope and faith. Mostly, I have faith in myself, and in the universe. Sometimes I have faith in humanity. But it’s hard to keep that flame alive in this place. Where it isn’t safe, where I am alone when I know I should have friends, and fun. I know I am meant to be light hearted and go to parties and laugh. I manage to do it here, often, but often I am by myself, and it reminds me of the past, where I was a bullied little girl, frightened and terribly alone. I don’t deserve to be that anymore. I have done good for this world. In helping others and also by helping myself. Perhaps especially by loving myself.

The White Gate

THE WHITE GATE

 

Sometimes I dream, at twilight, in my garden’s quiet peace; when the gracious dusk envelops, and life’s sorrows seem to cease. I gaze beyond the gateway with its trail of woodbine sweet, and dream I hear the footfall of your little spirit feet. Someday I too shall follow your steps through the woodbine gate, my eyes no longer weeping-my heart no more desolate. No need to tear the woodbine, for God’s invisible hand will lead my soul through the gateway and then I shall understand.

 

REFUSAL

I wonder, sitting with my legs dangling in the clear rock pool, the sun reflecting the patterns of the little waves onto my feet, I wonder… if there is reward for this refusal of Life’s very best-or what I deem to be life’s best. Perhaps it is worth refusing to love the one person I can’t stop loving. In giving up-we gain oblivion’s rest.  Will God remember or forget the strife of this poor heart which must be restrained and passionless? Something so pure and wonderful is seen as so wrong here, among the rules of human beings. How strange love is, I think, touching the water with my fingertips. It is cold and smooth. There is a school of fish that swim on by, lazily they look up at me and nod in unison before flapping their tails and heading on. This gesture of hello does not wake me from my depth of thought. The subject of life. How sad it is. The best it gives us, the one I love and me… is forgetfulness! But how to forget? Is it that easy to sink into this oblivion people so strive towards?

THOUGHT

I head back down the sandy lane, past the palms and the fig trees, the many different glittering shells laid carefully in patterns on the sands. I duck under a rose bush, sprouting pink and yellow roses, fully in bloom and singing softly into the caressing breeze. Here starts a maze that will eventually take me to where I am meant to go. I step into the hedge and its roots cling to my clothes. I shove them away and enter. There is no path. Just a vast expanse of grass. It is dawn! With the wonders night concealed, I blink and turn around to take a look behind me, where the hedge should be but is not. It is just a sky. Noon! With Life’s beating heart revealed. I reach out to touch it. It makes me bold. It goes dark suddenly, the only light a large lion on a hill, looking up into this ever changing sky and it is Eve! With her gentle touch; and tender night now comes on with her silver pall of splendour. I am left in semi light, with a lion calling my name.

APART

I know I must go through this long field to get to the lion calling my name with such mystery and music. At first the field is grass, wet with pearly dew but as my feet touch it, it grows high above my head and sprouts many pointy leaves! Marijuana plants swirl around my legs and arms, touch my face. Their different greens pinks and purples mesmerise me until I forget to find…who? Some of the sugary THC I examine forms into a butterfly, sappy and unprepared it floats into my mouth and I see a flash of APART, you are so far from me you seem as but the echo, echo, echo of a dreamer Dream, but waking still I hold you close and see a mirage of our loves sweet ecstasy. My sticky eyes open. And we are sitting under a great cherry blossom tree, pink blossoms spilling from its branches onto our naked bodies. So close to you, so close to me, sweet ecstasy. Alone at last.

I am back in the field. Oh! Vision fairer of heaven more than earth, where do you come from? Who gave your spirit birth? Why am I so different? Help me forget that love to us was born, knowing I have to go my way alone. My eyes no longer sticky, I am wide awake and the leaves are shrinking until they are miniature flowers in rainbow colours scattering the ground. Lion, lion, Where are you?

I take a deep breath of this fresh new air and start to float. At first it is slow and I barely notice my feet aren’t touching the soft ground. My excitement builds and soon I am shooting up and up into the sky. Quite strangely I now see

EARTH

White enveloped earth. Clad in the fallen snow, ah a passionless earth, cold is your touch, I know. But then, as I watch from afar in gloom and passive resistance the view of the world changes; tender and fragrant earth, waking to life again, soft yielding earth, warm with the sweet spring rain. It hits me first as it falls.

And now blazoning crimson earth! Pulsing with life and love, responsive earth, kissed by the sun above.

The view changes and now I am on the ground. It is misty. There are many big trees and a large lake, moss circles each tree and the mushrooms everywhere glow red and white. Mystical carpeted earth, with dead leaves of desire, disrobing earth, dying beneath loves fire. I feel as If I can’t breathe. Like smoke claws at lungs, taking the breath out of me. I start to cry. “What is it?” the big cats face is right in front of mine, purple and blue, it is not only a lion but an owl too. How strange. “What do you mean?” I ask, wiping my hot messy tears. “Why are you so miserable?” his brow was furrowed and it seemed he really wanted to know. His paw edged closer to my shoulder and slowly his fur started to recede, his claws soaking into the ground, his paw was now the soft, thin, feminine hand of the one I loved. Gasping, I look up to see her face. Her brown and grey eyes searching mine so deeply for the answer, how to unlock my pain?

LEAVETAKING

“Let me not see your eyes, it is better so, for with their look might come life’s overthrow. I cannot speak of my love! It is fates decree that speechless love is all between you and me.” So miserable am I, saying this to her, knowing it must be, crying so hard that I can no longer see, I say, and “So it must be goodbye. But…place your hands in mine; and I can say, finally, you understand. She understands!” I laugh and jump up to take her hand but there is only the night, and how hushed the silent heavens are! The clear, cold moonlight lies on all around, and one big bright star shines forth from out the skies. I shout, “Shine on, star! And let your beams illuminate all my way!” and I will now hope, nor wake from dreams until the breaking day. Could this all be a dream?

 

As if to laugh at me, a loud wind blew me away from the night and onto a small boat in the middle of the sea. I am completely unaccompanied, I know, and the earth, sea and wind chant your great song of love; heaven, space and time echo it from above. The waves start to leap over the boat, the water is icy. Lilies float on the now rocking surface, white flowers and blue, turbulent motions. The wind starts to whistle and it hurts my ears. Water chokes me as it splashes over board. I am frightened but I stand straight and let out, ‘blow out your strength, you stormy winds of fate! To this end born, from time predestinate; to this end live, to this end die: in death to find completer unity.’ At that the storm apologised and left, knowing I was not afraid of death.

Finally I am deposited on the shore that winds into a driveway, through a woodbine gate, where the lies a little cottage, white with a thatched roof and cloudy looking candyfloss pink roses crawling from the doorways and windows. Finally home, I step through the door into a bright room. Dark wood, a shining polished floor bounces with the sunlight.

No one is here to greet me.

ALONE

I only moved in here a week ago. It is yet to be a home. Now it is just an escape from what I feel. Some escape. I could not so did not stay to think what would befall my life, nor count the cost of risking all my love in one frail bark. Now, watching outside, storm clouds gather fast, it feels as if my sails are torn by ruthless winds and I am left forlorn-rudderless on life’s sea.

 

THREE DAYS

Do you remember, Love, the day we met? The sun shone bright, though all the earth was wet with glistening drops; like tears by Angels shed-and how the sunset sky blazed gold and red.

You were standing under a tree alone, examining its bark. Your long hair blew around your face as your head moved and your hands traced the grains in the wood. I walked up to you, “what are you doing?” you jumped slightly. Your eyes were round and your breathing fast, could you have already known. You smiled, “listening to this trees tale of life.” How I wanted to listen in too but I had to pass. I had to leave to be where I was meant to be. The funny thing about destiny…is it comes back to you when least expect it. I thought of you often afterwards. Your curves and your smile, your wise eyes and your words. And then again we met, it was dawn and it was flushed with rosy light, a peerless morn, a vision of fair seas-a land of flowers. Oh Love; I thank you that this day will always be ours. Seeing her stand in the land of flowers, spinning slowly around to take it all in, excited and laughing. We went beautiful places, my Love. From forests to the sea, and all the while you were next to me.

And yet another day has taken this one’s place and all is over. Wild foaming waves madly caressed the shore; bare trees and rain-drenched earth around us lay, no ray of gold to gild love’s dying day.

 

SPRING

So much time has passed and still I am plagued with flashbacks and secret longing. No one has found me. Are they even looking? Sometimes I walk and find things to occupy my mind. There is so much here to see. But it is nothing real without clarity. I wonder what you are doing now, and if you are wondering the same thing about me. Or have you moved on…to someone called John. Am I now experimentation to you. Something to laugh off or hide ashamedly?

I am sitting outside, it is spring! There is a blossoming orchard in front of me, calling me in. Spring! And the call of a bird, “Lorma, Lorma, Lorma, come away with me.” It sings, Spring in the heart of a young women, spring! What a magical word.

Spring and the daffodil golden, spring and the hyacinth blue, violets in the warm wet earth, at my touch they live anew. Spring in your luxuriant attire, it is you who could make me one with the beating heart of nature; one with the stars and sun! Spring in the love-bewildered air, spring in the warm scented rain. Exquisite season of promise, exquisite season of pain.

I decide to step into the orchard with its many fragrances changing my mind. Each step and the ground almost shakes with antici—–pation. I touch the grey bark; feel the petals float through my hair, down my face. The light here is strange. There are noises; whistles, birds talking, foxes scattering from under my feet. A guitar plays softly far away. Birds tweet, “follow me, Lorma Leigh!” I follow the guitar and the birds.

Finally, nearly breathless I find the source of the music; a small clearing, the trees arranged in a circle around a girl strumming on an emerald coloured guitar. “Lorma!” she exclaims as I come near. “Sit with me and sing?” she asks. Her eyes are pale green and orange from up close. Her nose is thin and slanted upwards. Her hair falls like waves down her back and shoulders. She is pale and wearing nothing but the guitar. Breath-taking. I sit down. “Who are you?” I ask. She continues to play but searches my eyes… as if I already know. This can’t be Stella. “No, not her.” She sighs. “You can read my mind?” I gasp. “No.” shaking her head she points to a long thin grey tree, and here etched in its bark is the word Stella with a question mark. How very peculiar. “You are one with the trees here. What you desire most is written on a tree of your choice, carved into one bark. Your one love, I should think?” I nod slowly, taking  this in. Her music gets louder and I am left alone in darkness the trees, the clearing, the girl have all melted away into darkness. The only light is STELLA? Looming in front of my eyes. “Why did you leave me, Lorma?” comes her voice, a ghostlike whisper, almost unreal. “Why? Because it isn’t right, to love you, Stella. Not the way I do. No one will accept it and so I am pushed. How to love in a world where I am numb? To see you with others, smiling and laughing as if I made no impact on your life.” Her face is suddenly in front of mine, her eyes wide and she is crying. “If love were all, then I would take your hand and we would wander to some far-off land where sunshine is, where lilies fair and tall fill the air with fragrance. If love were all!” her eyes leak big opal tears. “I wish I could make you understand…if love were all! Then I would kiss your eyes, seeing in them my promised paradise. I would weave for your brow a garland posy rare, kissing the loosened tendrils of your hair.” Her lips touched my cheek, brushing up the bone to my crying eyes and then my hair. I mutter back, “if love were all I should not stand apart with empty arms and lonely aching heart. Well, that may not comfort you, nor make you forget the leaden burden of a great regret-if love were all! Exasperated I push her away and I am back in the clearing. No one is there so I decide to go back, shaking; I want to lie down in a warm bed. It takes less than a minute to come back to the cottage. I walk up the stairs two at a time, turn into my bedroom and flop onto the bed.  I close my eyes, my wet eyelashes gluing together for sleep.

 

MY GARDEN

Dawn in my dewy garden. Dawn and the fresh sweet smell of the unused day in its pureness, in the garden I now love so well. I stretch, roll over, fall onto the wooden floor, and get up dazed and confused. I look out the window at my garden, ever changing to suit v=everyone who inhabits it. I get up and press my face against the col window. Breathe hot air onto its surface and write Stella? Before blowing over it and then rubbing it out thoroughly. I go downstairs to make myself some sweet tea before starting the day. Alone, but never without adventure here. I catch my reflation in a small mirror over my dresser and get up to look at me closer. My hair is long, thin and the colour of the inside of a lemon, white yellow shining. Brown eyes that cry every day and… all of a sudden the light changes outside. Noon! In my drowsy garden, noon and a quivering heat, a lark soaring free in high heaven. I run outside, there are whirring insects at my feet. I am laughing at this sudden change. The insects rise to meet and greet me. All of them are so very colourful. But they aren’t just insects, goodness no. Fey Folk come to visit. I dance with them and as I spin I forget the throbbing pain that normally devours my heart.

 

Night in my moonlit garden, night with her subtle spell cast over the slumbering flowers in the garden I love so well.

 

The End

Injustice League

I can’t fight all the injustice in the world

I sit here screaming into a pillow

With a thousand tears spilled

How can there be people who want to rape   a six week old girl

Front page news

It makes me ill

A part of my soul was killed

What sickness spreads through the masses?

Like a paralysing fog

It turns us all into passive fascists

Or rabies infested dogs

Doom hangs around us like a bog

 

I never want to leave my room

I can’t not feel all the pain

I give and I give

But there’s no gain

When things take a wrong turn

I am underneath it all

And I burn in hell

I can’t fight the feeling

Or the fear anymore

 

What are we doing?

Why are we here?

It’s ugly and messy

And full to the brim with tears

And screams

I thought we arrived to go forth and chase our dreams

But it isn’t all sunshine and smiles

In fact, come to think of it

 I haven’t seen any of that

for miles

It’s a desert, a grave yard, a place where you are forced to watch your dreams wither and die

A dark joke, where you don’t want to understand the punch line

A sucker punch to the gut when you least expect it

Breathe your first breath and you’ll grow to regret it

It’s one question

Over and over

A strangled suggestion

We keep guessing

Why

WHY

Why

Is it too late for us to all give it another try?

I’d rather say goodbye

Then fight a fixed war

Scream into a pillow

My heart is grated and raw

 

Broken Piano

Broken Piano

 

VERSE 1

a broken piano lies discarded against the wall.

no one hears the music

 

VERSE2

skeletons in closets

yearn to dance under the moon.

we drown in sorrow

too soon.

 

 

CHORUS

statues feel more than you do.

say more than you say.

about what goes on each day.

 

children crying,

hooded faces.

woman lying.

misplaced disgraces.

BRIDGE

we are lost.

we are colder than frost.

we are broken

and we must.

stop hiding

how human we are…

outside the window bars

is more than we can bare,

but if we share the load, we won’t see cold

hard statues anywhere

 

 

 

Verse 4

broken piano play me a song.

something sad and sweet with hope in each bar.

music notes, won’t you tell us the truth.

speak of the hurt,

speak of the youth…

Painting A Master-Plan

I’m going to give my heart

To the moon

Light a candle

To illuminate this tomb

Get down on my knees;

A Desperate Man

And speak to thee

Implore you, please

Searching for an answer

If you can

 

Show me if I’m on the Right Track

That the spiders tugging me

This way and that

Are in fact

The Key

To unlock a Divine Destiny

Tell me, would you, if I’m wrong?

And if, by chance, I’m not

Show me that I can be strong

For the path chance has chosen~less travelled

No road to guide me along

Is winding, and so very long

 

I believe in you,

Believing in me

The grasshoppers sing a tune

A peaceful Melody

In the din a door opens

And a soft voices

Reaches thee:

 

“Go forth in Light and Love

Live within, but

Stay above

As crazy as it may seem

Trust your spirit feet

And follow your dream”

 

On my knees~

A Desperate Man

I feel it all;

A Master Plan

A little click

A creaking open

A lullaby of Hoping

‘All will be good’

Now I know I can

Dare to paint a Master-Plan