Letters of the Past
Out of touch with what is real, foolishly we ask for more
than this body can provide us with, with the mind playing the master.
This amnesia is a choice and a recipe for disaster.
in the land of inner bliss, where eternally love caters
those receptive and who wish to know the meaning of no-mind.
Walk away from all you know and don't ever look behind.
but you cannot always push aside the now to go and hide
in the memories you're holding; a nostalgic ode to love.
Up above the clouds, you're cruising on the wings of just one dove.
and consider that the dove you love this beauty cannot show you.
To detach would be unwise, but non-attachment sounds appealing.
In the streets, amid these people, is where you will start your healing.
and the judge needs to be shown that he's loved and he's accepted.
Feelings you've protected yourself from now need to flourish,
and the fact that you have changed and grew so much needs to be cherished.
Mountains Calling
me to walk away and go all in.
Should I leave this place behind?
Uncertain of what I will find,
I spread my wings and let the wind dictate my direction.
I trust in God and know that He will offer me protection.
I'm free to flee this place for good and find connection.
It this world is my projection, it's perfection.
Wayward Patterns
Brittle love beneath these ceilings;
Fragile hearts backed by desire;
Cosy blankets fuelled by fire.
Hesitant, for to provoke it
would mean doomsday for us both.
Wayward patterns hinder growth.
Luka