Lights around a tree And a shiny ball Have been hung There by you to Celebrate giving. My sense of celebration Is on the wane this time Around. External changes have Affected me and I am Longing for abundance While experiencing Scarcity. When I stretch to the End of my being, I see that there […]
Ah, yes! There it is. A simple trick; A reality check; A call to consciousness. Frankly, call it what you like. I like it: My eye is drawn As you walk by. ~ by Stan Stewart Copyright © 2010 by muz4now, Inc. All Rights Reserved. 32/1,000
Maybe it was Winter’s start Or the setting on the thermostat. I can’t imagine that it was me. I had only the warmth of my heart To give to you. Yet somehow, in the rush and Bustle of my artist, techie, Introvert/extrovert, self-marketing, Trying-to-find-time-for-friends Life, I looked to you as if I was being cold.
I look out the window Into “our woods” And notice the awe With which I hold This time and place. It was not always so. Which allows now To hold even more Gratitude for me. The giant dreamcatcher Hovers between Two trees and Invites me into Further dreaming. For I have been dreaming All along.
I rarely edit my poetry. I don’t remember why I got into this practice. It probably has to do with my love of improvisation. Life is like that. We have to make it up as we go. Otherwise, it could seem to be too twisty. I like predictability and I like surprise. Well, I’m not
Has it been hours or days? I really can’t remember. The soft touch of your cheek Against mine seems still-present And long ago — Simultaneously. So I wait in longing, Expectant anticipation. Cannot believe this is What I live for And, then again, believe it with All my heart. Fatigue will not win out. Though
It starts easy enough. We are born. Perhaps we are born again While we — and those we love — Still live. And then we learn that Surviving is not the sole purpose For being here. Being alive is not so much the point. What we long for is the life That can be in
“Can I get a hug, please?” Those moments when we hang on By what feels like a single thread Are not always what they seem. There is always more here than What we see. What we cannot see is a magnitude Larger than what we can. Thinking that our simple, Self-contained senses can fathom Even
I spoke of the dream And it inspired you To inspire me. We woke in the Lush warmth of each other And began to make the dream Our reality. ~ by Stan Stewart Copyright © 2010 by muz4now, Inc. All Rights Reserved. 24/1,000
Words have different meanings To different people And in different lands. When I woke up this morning (Later than usual), I was not ready to start. I was more ready to end Or at least return to my slumber. You can’t think for a second that I was being purely lazy. That was not it
