TEA AND HOPE
On the side of a cup,
It not the best place to be,
Especially if you are surrounded by,
A hot and steaming spot of tea,
But as the saying goes
where there is tea
there is hope,
so I will sit
and patiently wait
for that little piece of rope,
the piece that dangles,
off the bag
when its being bobbed,
to and fro,
ill wait,ill grab it,
then climb all the way up it,
and to my freedom
I will merrily go.
THE SONG OF SORROWS
Once upon a time a man found a tapestry in a cellar,
the man took the tapestry home and laid it at the foot of his bed before going to sleep,
That night he dreamt,
First of an angel,
Then many dead,
The angel would lift the dead from the ground,
Beneath all that was left was a fine strand of yarn,
The old left long pieces,
The young shorter,
Some dark others light,
A second angel came too,
And took the pieces,
Then there was an old man,
He sat, whispering to himself,
He was carving what looked like a neck,
Then a body,
Soon the two were joined,
Finally a third man entered,
What followed was the sound of whispers,
Then, plucking of strings,
The Song of Sorrows.
TO WAR WE GO
Our love is made of demons
That stare each other down
Born off shadows cast below
By a flame adorned crown
To war we go
Forever we grow
As the Unknowable comes to manifest, through the illumination of things, a sun is born.
At birth there is death, even if only in the changing of form.
This is the first sound.
Every breath that follows is interwoven with every breath that follows, this creates the connectedness of all things
This is the Second sound.
The only worthy pursuit, to seek purposefulness.
Once found, this purpose must be expressed as a statement of intent.
This is the second part.
To follow is the struggle through loneliness.
The revelation of one's self to one's self.
Ultimately leading to a state of alloness.
Once realised, ONE is prepared to love and to be loved by another, not one, but all.
A rebirth is to follow.
This is the third part.
There are many sounds we do not hear, they are a product of all that moves at a constant.
All other sounds you perceive are of your imagination.
A consequence of action and effect of that which you believe is your cause.
A prayer of gratitude must follow, as it is only by grace that we may live and love,
This is the fourth part.
And as night comes, greet death with the welcome it deserves.
For at the very moment of your awakening shall you be closest to that grace.
but he preferred those quiet nights,
when whispers could be heard in his head,
and ideas had time to form in his hands,
Oddly on this night,
it was the clamering sound of boots that began to conjure
and it was the silence that disfigured them.