life: acoustic & amplified

poetry, quotes & thoughts about life

you’ve been warmed

You cannot seek water

from the one

who drained your seas,

and you cannot build

a home for your worth

inside of another being.

The medicine is when

you return to yourself

where you will remember

your strength,

reclaim your own rhythm,

and write your new song.

(~a poem from Victoria Erickson’s wonderful new book- Rhythms and Roads… Check it out at Barnes and Noble and on Amazon (Kindle and Paperback) at

The old chair is here, offering itself, whispering, “Come, sit down, rest, you are weary. See, I am here…”

And the carpet that you’ve never really looked at before, never really valued before, because you’ve been so busy looking for enlightenment and salvation and love in the future – see how it just… lies here… offering itself fully to you, prostrate in your presence, whispering, “Come, lie, sit, stand, I ask nothing of you, I want nothing. I am here….”

You didn’t truly see the carpet because you wanted to get enlightened first. You wanted to be an enlightened person standing on the carpet! You were going to work on yourself for forty years, meditate your way to Nirvana, heal your traumas, perfect your ‘self’, transcend your ego, or wait until you were ‘ready’ before valuing the carpet, seeing the carpet, recognizing the carpet as a divine expression, and a tremendous gift.

It was all a postponement, you see. It was all a movement away from ‘what is’, from the extraordinary sacredness of the ordinary. It was a displacement into a future that could never come…

The carpet was always here. The chair was always here. Ready. Alive. Innocent. Waiting. Life was always here, offering itself, showing itself, calling you, beckoning you, to finally see it, inviting you to awaken, to come alive, to be a child of awareness. And yet, you’ve been so busy moving away, into a ‘future’, into a dream…

Just take a moment. Any moment. This moment. And behold it in loving awareness, bathe it in your light.


Let them go,

all the leaves

once green regrets,

now sweet and rusted

wings of wisdom

floating on the

winds of reason.

Sweep them up

and craft a pile

shining with


toss the sparks

into the air and

watch them



Susan Frybort

How do we hold all this beauty

we are given to behold

in this wondrous world

within our fragile clay

without bursting at the seams

into rainbows

vividly colored dust

catching the light

laughing with delight

like children blowing bubbles

all iridescence and sparkle

sunlight on the water

kaleidoscope of a million diamonds

heart healing in the warmth


Amy Lloyd

Blessed be…series by Brianna Saussy

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