This Journey we call life...

This journey we call life;

full of UPS and downs,

twists and turns,




MOUNTAINS and valleys,

We live, we grow, we walk.

The rocks and boulders,
the obstacles we encounter along the way.
Are not there to cause us pain,
but to help us grow.

And in this long walk we call life,

the most we can ask for
is companions to walk along our way.
The heart of a kind person,
the one who makes us smile or cry.
The spiritual one who cries onward.
The brothers and sisters of the heart
these, these are the companions we can ask for along the way;
in this journey we call life.

Struggles

There seem to be monumental stuggles...
around me,
and near me,
and far away from me,
and through me.
This upheaval,
tumultuous as it may be,
is not dangerous
or bad,
but a cleansing of our hearts and minds

Healing Hands

Hands which have know pain;

and heartache;

and grief.

These are your healing hands.

Hands that have felt trouble;

and broken limbs;

and a trembling heart;

These are your healing hands.

Hands which have gone through the turmoil of growth;

scaled the high majestic rocky mountains;

and found rest in the peaceful valleys below;

these are your healing hands.

Through all of this,
you rest your hands gently on my shoulders;
and they give comfort;

and peace;

and healing;

These are your healing hands.

The truth told

She told me the truth,
that I did not want to hear.
I wanted to stay where I was,
wallowing in my own muckof
pain,
and bitterness,
and self loathing.
I was amgry that she told me the truth.
I did not want to leave,
I was comfortable,
in all of that hurt,
and anger,
and helplessness.
Somewhere deep inside,
reason spoke and i awoke and
ipulled my self out of that mud of my own making and
wshed,
and became clean,
and had hope again.

It is pouring out of me...

I know that pain,

I know that dark spot in your heart;

for I have one also.

I comes welling up out of nowhere

and engulfs me.

Its darkness blots out the stars,

but they still shine.

It covers the sun,

but it is still there.

For a moment,

in the torrent of the wave 

of pain that engulfs me,

I do not see them,

but they are there.

This place has blackness,
it has no faith
and it is hopeless.
It tells me I am nobody,
I am useless,
but not with a roar, but with a whisper.
The whispers are only lies,

its power was not in the words, 

but the wave of feeling that,

has now past.

I, 

tho am not with out faith

and I have hope.

And the blackness passes,
leaving me drenched in its form.
It is not part of me and it leaves quickly.

I tremble at its passage, but still I am standing.