Come drift with me tonight
As your drowsy eyes close
We will meet on serenity’s shore
where divine possibilities flow.
We will sail through the Milky Way
in our vessel of stardust and gold
then circle the moon
watching mysteries unfold.
When dawn rises with its
vision of new hope
we will remember the journey
is the reason we woke.
In 1989 my life changed forever. I did not realize yet, as I awoke from a coma, that I would never physically function the same again. I did regain walking with the help of adaptive aids but remained weak from nerve and muscle damage which remains. After I was home recovering I wrote the musings below but I have since learned hindsight is worthless except for beautiful memories. My life turned out to be wonderful with joy and successes I could have never imagined possible.
Every once in while I drag this prose out because it now makes me smile that I have come so far in my ability to appreciate life with no regrets.
If I would have known,
I would have ran one more time
I would have raced until the wind took my hair,
Until the landscape was but a blur
Until my muscles were used up with joy and exhaustion
My heart beat thundering in my ear
My skin glistening with sweat
My eyes burning from salt
I would have jumped with abandon
Every stump, every fence,
every moss covered rock
I would have hiked a lonely trail
And walked after dinner until sunset sent me home
If I had known,
I would have ran one more time.
Life besieges us with trouble and
sometimes with strife
and we often wonder how our endurance
will last through this life
The further we go the
the steeper the hills
so we use our faith from within
and push on with iron will
Even though the friction wears us
we are honing our skill
each lesson a pearl
spun from courage instilled
Life marches on as we string
one pearl at a time
transforming our spirit
from the wisdom we find
Someday we cross over and
the Angeles will sing
as they see the beautiful pearls
We carry on wings.
Guide your children with love,
Courage and strength
but remember it is their Journey in the end
Know that life has many storms
but also know it has many rainbows
Count your blessings every day
Forget your regrets
Honor nature and learn it’s wisdom
for it can teach you everything
Read and learn from books
but trust your own intuition
Go within yourself to find your way
but don’t linger there long enough to forget
Keep close to your family in good times and bad
for they are the Soul’s that have come here to help you
Live your life with purpose even if you don’t know what it is
Remember that others have a purpose even if
they don’t know what it is
Pray for strength to pull you through what is
Don’t pray for outcome of what is not
Remember you are only visiting Earth
Leave your essence so the Angels will know you were here.
I AM THE SEEKER,
I HUNGER FOR THE TRUTH,
I AM THE SURVIVOR,
I THIRST FOR THE CHALLENGE,
I AM THE WALKER AND THE WATCHER,
THE OBSERVER AND THE OBSERVED,
THE STORY TELLER AND THE STORY,
I AM ENTRAPPED AND I AM FREE,
I AM THE UNIVERSE
I AM ME.
Where will I be when I’m 93?
Will I live with grace and dignity?
Will the world be at peace?
Will my struggles be gone?
Will love come with ease?
Will my journey be long?
Will the storm still excite me?
Will nature still sooth my Soul?
Will I live free?
Will my life be truly told?
Where will I be when I’m 93?
Will I still remember me?
To start off the beginning of this year I wanted to share my favorite poem from Carl Sandberg. Poetry is a personal contact with its author. When you read poetry you are taking the same breath, the same rhythm as the creator that wrote it. In this particular piece it is not only inspirational but if understood deeply, also ethereal. May this new year bring many soft and velvet days of introspection.
And it won’t help any, it won’t get us anywhere
it won’t wipe away what has been
nor hold off what is to be
if you hear me saying
love is a little white bird
and the flight of it so fast
you can’t see it
and you know it’s there
only by the faint whirr of its wings
and a hush song coming so low to your ears
you fear it might be silence
and you listen keen and you listen long
and you know it’s more than silence
for you get the hush song so lovely
it hurts and it cuts into your heart
and what you want is to give more than you get
and you’d like to write it but it can’t be written
and you’d like to sing it but you don’t dare try
because the little white bird sings it better than you can
so you listen and while you listen you pray
and one day it’s as though a great slow wind
had washed you clean and strong inside and out
and the little white bird’s hush song
is telling you nothing can harm you,
the days to come can weave in and weave out
and spin their fabrics and designs for you
and nothing can harm you–
unless you change yourself into a thing of harm
nothing can harm you.
I give you the little white bird–
and my thanks for you hearing me–
and my prayers for you, my deep silent prayers.
“little word, little white bird”