Song to My Witness

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I sing to the one

who never sleeps,

a lullaby, a prayer,

and acknowledgement.

I sing to the witness of my soul

who watches me as I dream

from the cool, dark spaces

between stars,

from the exact still points

between heartbeats and breaths.

 

The one who has seen

all of my crimes,

all the comic and tragic antics

of my disparate self,

my confessor,

the one who cannot be

lied to or deceived.

 

And yet,

the one who holds me

in such a warm embrace

on the alter/stage of the Universe.

I, a brief flickering candle

guttering

in bright light.

 

I sing the song of my existence,

though I´ve forgotten

many of the words and notes.

My audience of one

knows them all by heart.

So I sing

to the silent witness of all,

the one who laughs and cries

my own tears and laughter,

then smiles and nods unseen,

watching it

all pass by.

Openness – Love

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Openess – Love

 

Free flowing, like a clear mountain stream,

tumbling down unobstructed.

Open wide, like the arms of a tree,

to the heavens above.

Like the radiance of a flower,

unfolding for all to see,

thus,

is the open mind, the open heart

in it´s natural state

of giving and receiving,

called love.

 

Love is openess

as fear is closed-ness.

It is not a commodity,

but a quality, a condition,

through which

all things come and go.

 

From you to me

and from me to you,

soft as the whisper of a breeze,

sweet as a song,

strong as a mighty river.

We open to each other

and the universe

opens within us.

Emotions

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The endless flow of our reactions

to, well,

everything.

The constant parade of our emotions

rising and falling like waves

on an internal sea.

So fleeting and temporal

like troughs of weather,

or wisps of colored smoke

drifting on breezes

and then are gone.

 

These primal and dusky apparitions

that were born before words,

experienced even before

we slid down the canal

of our birthing.

Distress or comfort,

pleasure or pain,

and then, of course

love or fear and

contentment or

all our hungers and wants.

 

Our first plaintive cry

echoes through

the remainder of our lives.

Our first smile

enlights the path of our journey.

Those emotions are ours, yet not ours.

Their source is beyond us.

The love of our mothers and fathers,

our grandmothers and grandfathers,

passes through us

to our own children and grandchildren.

unstoppable,    eternal.

In fact,

there is nothing new

about any of our emotions.

They´ve been around a long time.

russellrosandershortstories

The endless flow of our reactions

to, well,

everything.

The constant parade of our emotions

rising and falling like waves

on an internal sea.

So fleeting and temporal

like troughs of weather,

or wisps of colored smoke

drifting on breezes

and then are gone.

These primal and dusky apparitions

that were born before words,

experienced even before

we slid down the canal

of our birthing.

Distress or comfort,

pleasure or pain,

and then, of course

love or fear and

contentment or

all our hungers and wants.

Our first plaintive cry

echoes through

the remainder of our lives.

Our first smile

enlights the path of our journey.

Those emotions are ours, yet not ours.

Their source is beyond us.

The love of our mothers and fathers,

our grandmothers and grandfathers,

passes through us

to our own children and grandchildren.

unstoppable,    eternal.

In fact,

there is nothing new

about any of our…

View original post 284 more words

Emotions

Standard

The endless flow of our reactions

to, well,

everything.

The constant parade of our emotions

rising and falling like waves

on an internal sea.

So fleeting and temporal

like troughs of weather,

or wisps of colored smoke

drifting on breezes

and then are gone.

 

These primal and dusky apparitions

that were born before words,

experienced even before

we slid down the canal

of our birthing.

Distress or comfort,

pleasure or pain,

and then, of course

love or fear and

contentment or

all our hungers and wants.

 

Our first plaintive cry

echoes through

the remainder of our lives.

Our first smile

enlights the path of our journey.

Those emotions are ours, yet not ours.

Their source is beyond us.

The love of our mothers and fathers,

our grandmothers and grandfathers,

passes through us

to our own children and grandchildren.

unstoppable,    eternal.

In fact,

there is nothing new

about any of our emotions.

They´ve been around a long time.

 

From the moment of our inception,

we learn to assess our world and

all that surrounds us,

seeking knowledge of all the dangers

that might peril our survival,

what might enhance it.

So we might choose our footsteps carefully.

We tend towards the familiar.

We are wary of the unknown.

We discover that our emotions

are not all pleasant friends.

And yet we are driven towards

new experiences,

for better or worse

because everything changes.

We cannot abide stagnation.

 

We discern everything, we evaluate,

name, categorize and file all away

in our memories.

We try to stop the flow

and make our emotions crystal, solid

and permanent.

Which, of course,

is impossible.

We fear our emotions, like an unruly friend

whom we love and can be fun,

but sometimes leads us astray.

To someplace beyond our plans,

all our hopes and dreams

for ourselves and our families,

or to some inner conflict or turmoil,

as they sometimes do.

And so,

sometimes we deny them,

try to keep them

from coloring our decisions –

We like to make our choices dispassionately,

in line with other choices we have made before.

 

But at the end of the day,

when we remember all,

the bitter sadness’s

and sweet joys in our lives.

Is it not the love that has touched our lives

that we cherish most?

And don´t we also need

to embrace and let flow our sadness

to make love meaningful and whole?

Isn´t that which makes it sweet?

Acknowledge that all our emotions,

which are not sins,

but empower our lives,

are integral and vital to ourselves

and the incredible, wondrous

miracle

of the river

of live life.

Hope

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russellrosandershortstories

Hope

Oh, the mistakes I have made!

The errors, never to be undone!

The judgments I have passed on others!

People I have cursed and betrayed!

All for transgressions, even small slights,

perceived against myself

or those I choose to love.

All the while,

knowing deep within,

that I am equally guilty.

The mythical enlightened man

sits in his lonely cave –

unreachable.

Those rare divine saints –

all dead.

The miracle healer we´ve heard or read about –

never seen.

The spirit guides that never materialize,

that, perhaps, only dwell

in our imaginations,

and so,

we ignore,

while we blunder through our lives,

hungering for truth,

yet terrified of knowing it,

fearing it may lead us

into the deepest despair.

We, who are not perfect,

the end-all of our creation,

our evolution,

mere products of

our cultures,

our upbringings,

our educations,

our experiences,

unbidden emotion,

our insights and false…

View original post 124 more words

Hope

Standard

Hope

Oh, the mistakes I have made!

The errors, never to be undone!

The judgments I have passed on others!

People I have cursed and betrayed!

All for transgressions, even small slights,

perceived against myself

or those I choose to love.

All the while,

knowing deep within,

that I am equally guilty.

 

The mythical enlightened man

sits in his lonely cave –

unreachable.

Those rare divine saints –

all dead.

The miracle healer we´ve heard or read about –

never seen.

The spirit guides that never materialize,

that, perhaps, only dwell

in our imaginations,

and so,

we ignore,

while we blunder through our lives,

hungering for truth,

yet terrified of knowing it,

fearing it may lead us

into the deepest despair.

 

We, who are not perfect,

the end-all of our creation,

our evolution,

mere products of

our cultures,

our upbringings,

our educations,

our experiences,

unbidden emotion,

our insights and false beliefs,

the mistakes of others who

were no better equipped than ourselves.

Fallible!  How could we be otherwise?

 

Yet, we seek, against all odds,

perfection.

Our desire to be above the fray

that both compels us and condemns us.

We tire of conflict and suffering.

We want peace, within and without – resolution!

We seek a path that will deliver us

out of our temptations,

out of our hypocrisies,

to a mythical savior´s forgiveness.

 

But, perhaps,

deep within the very earth of our being,

the source of all and our own creation,

there,

we will find our solace,

discover

the truth that only we

can only forgive ourselves

and love all – so hard!

That this

is the only possibility,

the only hope,

remaining.

Ego Toys

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The inflatable ego,

the illusion of power,

self-importance and righteousness.

Much like children´s beach toys

waddling down to the sea

from beach-side stores

that specialize

in bathing suits and blue flippers.

Colorful crocodiles and fierce sharks

designed to allay the fears of children,

to scare off the enemies of

innocence and fun.

Protection from the universe

with all it´s nasty dangers.

Sharp toothed beasts

that say,

“Don´t tread on me!”

 

The inner-tubes of selfdom,

blown up with each new success,

accomplishment or acquisition,

growing larger and larger,

until, at last,

a single, tiny prick of fate

deflates the whole pretence

and tears

begin to flow.

Telling us that such fragile floating devices

should only be used when necessary,

until one learns to swim.