Billowing like a sail or a kite Fighting to gain a hold on the wind, My heart opens to the Shift. Changing is such a normal thing. I cannot deny the change. It is the infinite view in the Infinitesimal pinhole into My heart’s sight. I see it. I am it. (This shift comes from […]
Wind and Sea – a spontaneous #poem – Maui series Read More »
Flow into your life With whatever subtlety or Bravado you want. Either way, you will be Accepted in these Receptive walls and halls. You can decorate later. For now, just drink up What life is offering To you every day. Don’t ignore the bits You’ve made yourself: They are just as juicy As the gifts
You think you are entering The void, But this is a life that is Full to the brim. You may not even need To pack a bag. Everything you need will Be there when you Arrive. You just need To open your eyes and Your heart to be able To see in a new way
At first, it is a tiny rumble: Like the quiet growl of Warning from a protective canine. Yet it is not so much a disturbance As a natural shift to whatever Needs to happen next. ~ spontaneously composed by Stan Stewart ~ Copyright © 2013 by muz4now, inc. All rights reserved.
When you cannot explain Beauty, change, or any of a million other things And you want to explain it away with Magic or Deny it because it’s “Too good to be real”, Don’t be afraid: Approach this and all of life With simple awe And wonder. ~ spontaneously composed by Stan Stewart ~ copyright ©
Yes. That is the answer my senses give to The question that has not been asked. No need to wait for the dramatic pause: Trying to slow the beating of my heart Is like asking a dead man to come Alive again. Yes, indeed. Unconsciously, my tongue licks across My upper lip. It might as
It’s enough to say I give my love away Too easily. Each time, my soft heart Breaks. I’m not that smart When it Comes down to stuff like Feelings. They do spike My pulse And set synapses On fire. Now with this Pharma Stash in my weary Brain, holding bleary (I guess) Expectations so Unspoken
You know it’s gonna cost you If you wear those worn out shoes. They’re gonna do worse than Hurt your feet. They’re gonna make people Look at ya funny.
Sweat pours down my forehead and drips, coolly, first to the pockets around my nose and then onto the desk in front of me. It’s a “good sweat“: the kind where I know that I’ve accomplished what I set out to do; where (even if the next step is not clear) my body/spirit is stirred
3 I was making up poetry in the womb. Mother says so, and you know what that means: Nobody’s gonna question it. And I mean nobody. She may not get around so fast, But Mother’s got a way with her tongue That can lash you within an inch of your life. That’s probably why I
