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Stream of consciousness post. Can you help me to figure this out please. Thanks.
Stream of consciousness post. Can you help me to figure this out please. Thanks.
There exist no goodbyes, or tears between me and my sea only cosmic see-you-later: Pontic Sea, my shepherd, you guide & renew me through the tempests and help mend my existential crises.
I dabbled in poetry all my life-- a half poet at best-- but never thought I'd be this deep in it: splashing around and loving it; creating imaginary gardens with breathing toads in them. Ah, Poetry!
Tried audio for the first time. Recorded it on the voice memo on iPhone, saved it on Keep, but for the life of me couldn't figure out where that thing was saved. Sheesh. Before that, the shedding of inhibitions & stretching of my comfort zone. I did it for you. This poem is close to my heart. Happy Holidays.
It is not true that midlife sneaks up on you. And it’s in everyone’s best interest to read up on this and somehow prepare for the change. It’s nothing to fear and if you let it you’ll have the added benefit of the wonderful spiritual change that comes with middle age.
Mom's lovely words still float me every October & keep me afloat through the year. In time, I'll be closer to where my higher power resides. A short essay.
It's October, at last! How cool... I've been trying to sync to the frequency of the universe; been having a parallel relationship with it. Won't you dance with me? It's my birthday month!
Three choices I present to you today, Only three; more than three is surplus. Which school of thought is close to your heart? Will one sag you, will one edify you, will one fit?
This post is of the time I partnered with the wonderful David of The Skeptic's Kaddish. Giving the poem another airing. Please enjoy.
Awareness of the pleasantness of the moment makes for a day of here-spent hours. Let's be the peace we’re wishing for, the change we all need. As thoughts whizz through our thinker, let's think world peace.
A past, scars, and embarrassment-- we all have them. So when that carousel of dreams comes along, bearing sepia photos, heed the call. Count your blessings and surrender.
Do you agree that nature is our way back to the divine? Methinkso: Even wandering through industrialized concrete jungles, one can find a spiritual moment. Do you listen? Enjoy your summer.