quest for that shade of blue
When the light lessens,
Causing colors to lose their courage,
And your eyes fix on the empty distance
That can open on either side
Of the surest line
To make all that is
Familiar and near
Seem suddenly foreign,
When the music of talk
Breaks apart into noise
And you hear your heart louden
While the voices around you
Slow down to leaden echoes
Turning the silence Into something stony and cold,
When the old ghosts come back
To feed on everywhere you felt sure,
Do not strengthen their hunger
By choosing to fear;
Rather, decide to call on your heart
That it may grow clear and free
To welcome home your emptiness
That it may cleanse you
Like the clearest air
You could ever breathe.
Allow your loneliness time
To dissolve the shell of dross
That had closed around you;
Choose in this severe silence
To hear the one true voice
Your rushed life fears;
Cradle yourself like a child
Learning to trust what emerges,
So that gradually
You may come to know
That deep in that black hole
You will find the blue flower
That holds the mystical light
Which will illuminate in you
The glimmer of springtime.
💙
A Blessing for Loneliness by John O’Donohue
Alone and lost
at the edge
of an ocean
of memories,
a heart of the deepest blue
beats
to the slow monotony
of a swaying metronome;
found in the crashing waves
of a dark desolate shore.
The weeping wind,
with its hidden whispers,
murmurs her name;
as nights they walked
hand in hand
flashback into view.
Haunting the torn fabric of his soul.
💔
Shipwrecked heart by AllPoetry member, Halosonthemoon
read the rest here: http://ow.ly/eO4E302oGFH
when I ride the nights ragged hours
when my loneliness rages with ruthless, restless, too warm turning
when heaven is that smudge of light
seen beside the farthest star
when sleep is torn from my hungry grasp
and I am left without an inch of satisfaction
from the feathers beneath my head
when I open my eyes to the same shade of black
I see with them closed
then I feel the disappearance of my desire to conform
my self is borderless at 3 am
my pretensions dissolve into this dark
I surrender to my grief
as well as to my hope
I swim to the other end of the bed
to cooler pastures
I visit the sheep
living among the stuff
down there
I listen as they recited the 23rd Psalm
to reassure my nervous entering
in that strange world
I hear all the sounds from this new dimension
my mind takes on the shape of new perspective
alert to this unusual adventure
I cry a little
laugh a little
think about the glory of love
the world turns on its axis
I breath free
I fly home
💞
AL
I am a sheep
and I like it
because the grass
I lie down in
feels good and the still
waters are restful and right
there if I’m thirsty
and though some valleys
are very chilly there is a long
rod that prods me so I
direct my hooves
the right way
though today
I’m trying hard
to sit at a table
because it’s expected
required really
and my enemies—
it turns out I have enemies—
are watching me eat and
spill my drink
but I don’t worry because
all my enemies do
is watch and I know
I’m safe if I will
just do my best
as I sit on this chair
that wobbles a bit
in the grass
on the side of a hill.
🐏
Here In The Psalm by Sally Fisher
Your great mistake is to act the drama
as if you were alone. As if life
were a progressive and cunning crime
with no witness to the tiny hidden
transgressions. To feel abandoned is to deny
the intimacy of your surroundings. Surely,
even you, at times, have felt the grand array;
the swelling presence, and the chorus, crowding
out your solo voice You must note
the way the soap dish enables you,
or the window latch grants you freedom.
Alertness is the hidden discipline of familiarity.
The stairs are your mentor of things
to come, the doors have always been there
to frighten you and invite you,
and the tiny speaker in the phone
is your dream-ladder to divinity.
Put down the weight of your aloneness and ease into
the conversation. The kettle is singing
even as it pours you a drink, the cooking pots
have left their arrogant aloofness and
seen the good in you at last. All the birds
and creatures of the world are unutterably
themselves. Everything is waiting for you.
🌎
Everything is Waiting for You by David Whyte
from Everything is Waiting for You
©2003 Many Rivers Press
photo sources found at pinterest.com
life: acoustic & amplified 