Praying for Release Urge me to drop every leaf I don't need every task or habit I repeat past its season, every sorrow I rehearse, each unfilled hope I recall, every person or possession to which I cling until my branches are bare, until I hold fast to nothing. Blow me about in your wild iron sky crush all that's puffed up, fluff all that in me needs to go to seed, send my shadows to sleep. Tutor me through straining night winds in the passion of moan and pant, the gift of letting go at the moment of most abundance in the way of falling apples, figs, maple leaves, pecans. Open my eyes to your languid light, let me stare in your face until I see no difference between soar and fall, until I recognize eternity in single breaths, faint whispers of cool air through lungs. Show me the way of dying in glorious boldness - yellow, gold, orange, rust, red, burgundy and brown. |
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The earth heaved heavy sobs as it listened to the words above. The roots of the trees were asking, "Why go on? Our soil is depleted, and our water is dirty." The mighty trees sighed, letting their branches fall a little lower. Looking up to the expanse of air surrounding it, it asked; "Why must I go on? They don't care! More and more pollutants go out every day.... I am growing weary." The air let out a mighty wind.... blowing the leaves of the trees and making the waters move. "I, too, am growing tired.... I must blow harder and harder to cleanse myself." The waters moved with the sobs of the earth.... "I join with air and make tornadoes to cleanse our earth; I join with water and make hurricanes; I carry the tears of those that are destroying us.... I give myself to the earth... is it in vain? Will they ever wake up?" Earth could handle no more pain. She started trembling harder, shaking..... opening up from the depth of her core.... to let out her agony. Her agony continued upward, to escape through the cracks that her shaking and sobs were creating.... all the while desperately trying to block the screams and cries of those above ~~ those that caused all this pain.... but never took responsibility. "We must believe," said Earth. "There are many awakened souls, and more every day, that know we are all a treasure to each other; that we are all dependent upon another; and that love is the answer so many seek." Hearing those words spoken, the air started to blow a gentle breeze across earth, settling the dust from all the rubble. It also formed rain clouds and let its tears tame the fires.... helping to extinguish them. The trees once again stood mighty and tall; giving off their seeds in great bursts and helping to cleanse air. The waters rushed forth to the land, offering itself for the people to cleanse, and to dampen the Earth. Earth slowly calmed down.... letting only a few more heaves shudder through its being. She was absorbing the tears that flowed all over her surface.... taking in the fear, the blame, the cries of those upon her.... with not much gratitude for doing so.... Thus, starting the cycle all over again. Copyright Randi Fortuin |
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why do you seek answers written on paper, made of the bodies of trees? the trees themselves have more wisdom, than any fools ink. |
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the heart does not know how to lie, but it has the fault of its passions... and does not always see clearly. the mind will lie, and tell you false, but sees what the heart will not admit... and to bring the two together is the task of this life. |
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the drum beat becomes my heart beat. my heart beat becomes the rhythm of the dance. my feet remember the pattern, and I dance again... to the drum I hear... whenever I hear you speak. |
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my sister, I know you. my brother, I remember. why do you wear such different faces than my own? were we not all dancing together just the other day? or do I remember days long past... or still to come? |
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we walk in a hall of mirrors, whose reflections show us bits and pieces of our lives... as we walk by. foolishly, we have come to believe, that the images we see, are all there is... this mirror shows me a lovely smile, this one a shattered life, that one a true friend, this one a betrayer. we cower and cry, embrace the one, and fly from another, but it is only mirrors, that show us pieces made to seem the whole, as we walk by.... |
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we hide in terror from death... because we have forgotten that the curtain... falls only on the play, and there is a life, beyond this stage. |
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the trees know more, than any sage. the changing leaves, more than any words. this wood has truths, within its grain, more elegant than any brush can paint. |
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men build their cities, and count their hours, the oceans embrace will reduce the mountain to sand, and the stars will dance their slow, and stately, waltz, and who has lived? |
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I have spent an hour, listening to the words of the great builders, for two hours, the great wars were recounted, and I have come here, and sat beneath the branches of this oak, because... I wished to hear wisdom. I have learned more, from poets, and musicians, than ever was contained, within walls of ivy, and stone. |
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when you can sit, and watch the waves, and listen to the surf, and think of nothing, then you will not need, to go to the sea, until then, listen to the waves, and watch the surf. Copyright 1999: Pyre Thistle |
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Authors Unknown:
A man and his dog were walking along a road. The man was enjoying the scenery, when it suddenly occurred to him that he was dead. He remembered dying, and that the dog had been dead for years. He wondered where the road was leading them. After a while, they came to a high, white stone wall along one side of the road. It looked like fine marble. At the top of a long hill, it was broken by a tall arch that glowed in the sunlight. When he was standing before it, he saw a magnificent gate in the arch that looked like mother of pearl, and the street that led to the gate looked like pure gold. He and the dog walked toward the gate, and as he got closer, he saw a man at a desk to one side. When he was close enough, he called out, "Excuse me, where are we?" "This is heaven, sir," the man answered. "Wow! Would you happen to have some water?" the man asked. "Of course, sir. Come right in, and I'll have some ice water brought right up." The man gestured, and the gate began to open. "Can my friend," gesturing toward his dog, "come in, too?" the traveler asked. "I'm sorry, sir, but we don't accept pets." The man thought a moment and then turned back toward the road and continued the way he had been going. After another long walk, and at the top of another long hill, he came to a dirt road which led through a farm gate that looked as if it had never been closed. There was no fence. As he approached the gate, he saw a man inside, leaning against a tree and reading a book. "Excuse me!" he called to the reader. "Do you have any water?" "Yeah, sure, there's a pump over there" The man pointed to a place that couldn't be seen from outside the gate. "Come on in." "How about my friend here?" the traveler gestured to the dog. "There should be a bowl by the pump." They went through the gate, and sure enough, there was an old fashioned hand pump with a bowl beside it. The traveler filled the bowl and took a long drink himself, then he gave some to the dog. When they were full, he and the dog walked back toward the man who was standing by the tree waiting for them. "What do you call this place?" the traveler asked. "This is heaven," was the answer. "Well, that's confusing," the traveler said. "The man down the road said that was heaven, too." "Oh, you mean the place with the gold street and pearly gates? Nope. That's hell." "Doesn't it make you mad for them to use your name like that?" "No. I can see how you might think so, but we're just happy that they screen out the folks who'll leave their best friends behind". |
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