Going along this life
with our friends
who nurture us
as we nurture them.

Sometimes we're too busy to love,
we have so much on our minds.

Sometimes we're too busy to notice,
we have to much to do-
and our garden is left unnoticed.


But when we care,
that's when we can really be there,
to feel their pain
as they feel ours,
to honor their days,
as they honor ours.

Friends
that dare
come from a place
somewhere
inside the heart
as they honestly
love and care.

When our days are sad,
they say a thing or two
that makes us smile
and giggle too.

When we're happy
they are happy too
because in all,
we are one-
its true.

And when our heart
cannot bare
to feel more pain,
we feel the love,
through our friends
that trust
and love
us.

 

Enthusiasm
I spoke to a friend about something that seemed so interesting, so inviting, and so positive- until I got the response.. A blobb of hmm hmm, and well.. yeahh guess that's interesting, said in a tone that is not so convicing. And then an unomfortable feeling came within.

I watched the video the other day from Louise Hay "You Can Heal Your Life, The Movie" and they mentioned that when we feel something uncomfortable, its great- because right there, at that moment, we can transform it.

In this case, seeing a lacking of enthusiasm from someone else- which inevitably it is completely fine, for some like chocolate, others vanilla; some like sports, others art; some like rain, others sunshine; some like pottery, others rather play lottery; some gamble their days away, some rather go to a park and play..; some enjoy nurturing, some enjoy investing.. it's all in the eyes of the beholder- But the lesson is what is clear and generous. Seeing that lacking of enthusiasm from someone else, helped me 1- accept it, accept THEM, accept ME feeling this and 2- this is a reminder to heighten my own enthusiam.

So quickly, I transformed my passion of what I was doing at the moment, from not being so enthusiastic to my cleaning the house, to completely being enthusiastic about it- completely increasing my passion for cleaning my world, my home, and doing it with that zest of life and love- the very life that clings and relentlessly teaches us- every day, how to live our days.

Thank you life, it is all a matter of perception.
If we clean our lenses, we can see more clear.

By the way- I took this picture when I went to an amazing ecovillage in Argentina. It was this man's passion- to build an amazing landscape of organic gardens, and trees of nature, as well as respecting earth as much as possible in this self sustainable environment of adobe style homes, and solar everything, everything vegan, everything sweet, everything kind, and everything done from a place of passion- enthusiasm at its finest.

 

Amelia
I remember you often
I remember your friendship and your smile
I remember the way that you laugh outloud,
you have a way to motivate me fully,
you have a way to inspire me,
to liven my day,
to always cheer up my ways.

You have a spark in your aura
a golden light that transforms my all,
you are a sun
appearing as skiny fragments of color in the sky,
you are grounded and disciplined,
and you remind me of what I truly am,
deep within.

Thank you for your kindness
that never stops,
thank you for the words of wisdom
you always have.
Thank you for your magnetic laugh
and the light in your eyes,
your brilliance amazes me,
even right now in my heart.

I think of you and I smile again,
I am so blessed to have such
wonderous angelic friends.

 

We keep ourselves busy with lights...
outside lights...
and fake a smile while thinking and planning
and wondering why did this happen that way
or what will it be in the future...

We go
back and forth
like a pendulum of swings
and in one focused second
we can't even tune in
where that swing is going-
because it's going so fast,
and before we know it
we forget to know how to stop
it from doing all that.

And all the times we feel like a mouse
running around and around in a circle
without pause until there's no breath
left to bear-
we used up all the emotions in our tank,
all the tension has come back,
and there is no gap,
only a cap
to hold back the wind and the cold
and the years that made us look so old
and grey
and perhaps now we have a way
to slow down
and without despair
know that deep inside
we're still in there
and all the while
while it feels out here so cold-
deep inside it still is warm,
for deep in our hearts of love
is our truest sweetest home.

 

Boats and streams
on a European day
Monet captures the breeze
and the light of that day

What peaceful village
nothing somber
just nature that loves
amidst calming
white doves
that wonder
through the sky

The day is free
The heart shines
My heart shines
bright
as I look and write
I look at such a painting
that captures its very life

I fly in my dreams
I fly
and if I had a choice
I'd fly to this very site
so that I can bathe by the doves
that recite
soft melodies
of fruit filled songs
in a way that is
perfectly
and delightfully
just right.

Good night!!

 

Blue dress
Softly fitting the curves
Of the waist

A cotton feel
Soft
Comfortable
and pretty

Delightful
like the sky
it reminds me
of the stars
I saw tonight

Because its glimmery
It sparkles and it shines
And it dances
Freely and my eyes
Bright and happy
Dancing and enjoying
These wonderful melodies
With pride

May we always enjoy
Each moment
Each bliss
And realize the gifts
That are such blessings

And through it all
I melt tonight
Covered in my blankets
as I slowly close my eyes.

John Keats

 

John Keats
A lover of poems
A poet of lovers
as he loved a lover so sweetly-
his poems explained it so.

Through fire in his breath,
with the knowing that without
a dime or an inch
of health he
couldn't secure
his love by him
for too long
a time-

But still
with the time they had,
they were blessed to shine.
And now beyond his death
his poems of love
will forever fill our chests.

He wrote to his "Fanny":
Bright Star
Bright star, would I were steadfast as thou art —
Not in lone splendour hung aloft the night
And watching, with eternal lids apart,
Like Nature's patient, sleepless Eremite,
The moving waters at their priestlike task
Of pure ablution round earth's human shores,
Or gazing on the new soft-fallen mask
Of snow upon the mountains and the moors —
No — yet still stedfast, still unchangeable,
Pillow'd upon my fair love's ripening breast,
To feel for ever its soft fall and swell,
Awake for ever in a sweet unrest,
Still, still to hear her tender-taken breath,
And so live ever — or else swoon to death.