Essay: Truth

Beyond the surface of our understanding, a spirited force lays in a temporary repose. So deeply hidden underneath the many layers of the earth of our minds it is, waiting patiently to be exposed. For its humble face is an outcast to the world outside the doors of its home. Yet, every so often it releases a zealous pulse from its heart to a receptive spirit as a reminder of its existence. The mind’s eye of the spirit is then forced to behold the view of the world past that of fantasy after a single touch from its chilling finger. And the invisible barrier of illusion that once clouded the eye shatters at last. Such spirited force is Truth. Traces of its existence is but faint, even lifeless at times in this figure that is so called society. The eye’s of the figure only view but an illusion, not Truth. For that is what it has created. A misleading illusion that had been plastered over the face of Truth, in effort to smother the living breathe directly from its mouth. For only then can it be content with its own life. Only when it is consumed with the stories of a thousand lies does it shout in joy and say it is satisfied with life. The lies transform into a false truth. Nothing more. Then slowly, the figure’s vision becomes impaired. So does its heart… Fortunate for me to have escaped the grasp of this misleading illusion. Now begins my task to seek out Truth from inside the bottomless well of my mind. For I wish to reside in its home of righteousness rather than the land of my desires.

My Poem: Answers

A multitude of questions fill the surrounding space
Competeing in a race
For my attention
And no need to mention
All of the confusion
They only create an image of an illusion
That taunt me with its lies
And its unending cries
For answers.
Enough!
No more I say.
STAY AWAY!
For they made day and night bleed together
And my mind drifted away like a lost feather
Sailing away on the seas of time
Only there did the clouds appear sublime
Yet even there the questions did not leave
Always I have to carry them on my sleeve
Listening to their cry
For answers.
Sigh...why even try?
To search longer for what cannot be found
Silence...
No I am bound
By chains of desperation
Hoping in anticipation
For answers.

My Poem: Sweet Melody

Black and yellow
Its translucent wings
Humming a familiar tune
Whilst dancing with grace
To and fro as it pleases
Stopping momentarily
To whisper of a promise
A single hope
From above.
“Faith”
Its beauty speaks
Fragile the voice
Uttering a declaration from its Master.
Careful not to miss it.
Afterwards
Black and yellow
Travels on
Dancing into the unknown.
Being carried by the waves of a gale
The faint echo of its melody
rings.

My Poem: A Town In Recovery

A small town enclosed by the walls of mountains,
Is hidden deep within a lonesome valley.
Shadows fall over its frame.
It is obscured by the blanket of a devistating downfall,
And continues to cling to the days of old...
Its history lingers within its shell,
Speaking of an vibrant story that is no longer told out loud.
And the memories of the previous liveliness are fresh in its roots,
Driving it toward restoration.
After seasons pass, new engery transpires,
Cultivating the old into new,
And aquirring the seed of freedom.
A sprout finally regrows from the weakened skeleton,
Spreading like a blazing fire.
No longer without oxygen to respire,
The town blooms once more.
Slowly. Unraveling.
It starts.
The damage from the past begins to be repaired by the hands of a new source,
Who is willing to return to the former day,
When the evidence of disater was not apparent,
And the pulse was never faint.
Now soft songs sound from the once solitary streets,
Ringing toward the hills,
Spreading the aroma of life.
The small town is amidst recovery.

The Ant In Us

A black ant scrambles across the pavement, on his back is a piece of a thick, ash leaf. On and on, he travels with his load to an unknown destination. A few moments later, he disappears under a layer of rocks, out of sight...
The ant being a perfect image of oursleves, carries more than his own wieght. The load is a symbol of truth; a symbol of the secrets hidden inside ourselves which we carry on our shoulders throughout life. For what reasons? Such question cannot be answered. For the jusifications are obscured deep in our hearts only for us personaly to know. It is locked away in the chest we built out of protection. While embarressed, guilty, doubtful,...we move foward just as the ant, never disposing the leaf from our backs because we never find the destination that we feel provides safety for such information. We fear the power of others having knowlege of such information, so we hold on to it even though it cuases pain. Thus, each of us become a feeble ant that is overpowered by the magnitude of its load.
However, unlike the ant, we are not built to hold the extra weight and therefore, our frames are weakened over time. The strain adds to the discomfort and we feel helpless. Our ability to withstand such feelings diminishes and we are left vulnerable.
Yet, while we all reach such point more than once where the feeling of impowerment takes control, we can also escape its wrath. It may take longer than anticipated, but we do have the strenghth to win such battle. Every individual has the capability of releasing the burden that is being carried. It does not matter whether it may be large or minute. Thus, do not lose faith. Somewhere along the path leading to our destination is a place of where it is safe for us to dispose of our burdens. When the right moment comes, such a place will be revealed. And when such a time occurs, the true black ant in all of us will finally appear.

A Walk On The Beach

During one of my many walks on the beach I came across a few things that I found interesting. The ocean had a few insights it happened to share with me so I thought I would share one of the them....
When walking down the beach of course there were seashells. You cannot have a beach without seashells! Well, I saw an intersting pebble and picked it up off the sandy floor, observing the arrangement of colors on its surface. When I finished, I threw it back into the ocean and searched for a shell instead. Doing so, I noticed that there were more of the pebbles and pieces of broken shells rather than the regular full shells. I looked closer at another pebble, and that was when I realized that the pebble was not a pebble at all, but instead a shell... the ocean water had caused it to look differently. The water ran over the shell so many times that it wore down its surface and caused it to go from a large shell and into a small pebble.
Then I went to thinking further...people are very similar to the pebbles. The waves of life repeatedly wash our surface and eventually polish us over time just as the large shells become pebbles from the waves of the ocean. We all start like a shell; whole and sturdy. However, with each new wave, it changes the way we look. More so inside than out. They shape us into a different person...We are made new....sometimes into someone we cannot recognize just as I did not recognize that the pebble was actually a shell at first.
The force of the water may also cause the shell to break along the way. A few pieces of the shell may be left on the shore while the others are washed back into the depths of the ocean. Some of the pieces of ourselves are left behind in our pasts for certian reasons while the rest lay in the present. It is impossible to put them back together. The broken piece is then carried on and drifts to a new destination, caught by the waves. The shell still continues its journey even thought it is broken just as we are forced to do.
And so, you can see that the water seems to be a huge factor. It was the water that caused the change in the shells and took them where it wanted. Well, there is a figure that resembles the water. Yes, God. God is the water and we are the seashells. He shapes us and polishes us throughtout our life. While we may break during the proccess, it does not matter. Even the small, broken pieces of shells with holes in its surface are still picked up on the shore and admired. Afterall I picked one up. They are not forgotten and lost in the depths of the ocean. They are still cared for them just as God cares for us. The creatures in the shell are dependent on the water just as our souls are dependent on God. And in the end, we become like the pebble I happened to pick up, smooth and better yet, beautiful!

My Poem: Run

Run Run So Fast

Escape the past
At last, At last
No need to return
And feel the burn
Why not learn
How to dream
In an endless stream
Forget the scream
Of fright
Leave the night
And enter the light
Run Run So Fast
Escape the past
At last, At last
No need to fear
Release the last tear
And hear
The sound of rest
Free from the the tempest
Join this quest
And rise
Forget the lies
Walk into the sunrise
Of a new day
Do not delay
Or go astray
Run Run So Fast
Escape the past

At last, At last

My Poem: Show Me Your Glory

My footsteps beat against grains of sand

Running in time to complete a task at hand

Scorched from the stifling heat of the strangling day

Still they manage to press foward without delay
My eyes search the horizon for the distant place
Where consolation flows throughout the entire space
And solitude is no longer the only affiliation
Ah, How I seek in anticipation...
Reaching the ridged rocks where the waves collide
Where sparkling blue depths and the heavan divide
My ears hear a sinlge voice call out:
"No need child for you to reman in doubt,
For I have come to show you the way,
Under the shelter of my wing you shall stay!"

The voice withdraws from me all of my confusion
No longer do I reside in a misleading illusion
Of a treacherous shore
Trapping me once more
No, Now to know that You will always be so near
No more do I have to live in fear
Of tribulaton
For You have granted me restoration

Thus, one day these waves will cease to cause turmoil
Their twisting grasp around me will finally uncoil
Allowing my feet to fully stand still
On Your glorious hill

Of grace and protection

I do not need to search for my own direction

My Reflection: Love

      My soul is constantly craving for the luscious morsel of affection. My heart longs to receive love from the hearts of others, whether it is from those of relation or not. As long as love is within reach, worries seem to fade away, confidence of oneself is restored, and the sense of being valued is gained. My soul is dependent on love; desperately in need of it to thrive; to endure a single day of hardship. For life is too difficult to walk through alone and damaged. Furthermore, solitude is no longer needed as an escape, for love brings companionship and forms a bond between individuals that cannot be severed. Indeed, when love is acquired, the sense of value and comfort is irreplaceable. However, the quest to obtain affection from others has time and time again only proven to be strenuous. When the promise of a source of affection appears, failure triumphs, laughing in mockey at the mistaken individual. Every turn leads to disappointment. Instead of love, cruelty is in its place and the heart becomes stricken with grief. I cannot live without one bit of love or kindness. Love and compassion is vital for any living being.
     I speculate who or what is at fault for the scarce amount of love. If affection is a necessity, why is it so difficult to attain? One single word comes to mind; cruelty. It reigns above love in this world. Too many individuals are overcome by the wickedness of cruelty and are consumed within its grasp. They have lost sight on the importance of affection and how others depend on it and thus, the beautiful concept of love is neglected. As a result, individuals are left to suffer from cruelty's effects with shattered hearts. They are left to wander through life with feelings of doubt and hopelessness. The world becomes a threatening realm that inflicts wounds at every corner and scars remain as a reminder. The heart will forever long for a single fragment of warmth to heat its ongoing chills; love is its only alternative.
     Yet, I still carry hope that one day a world will exist in which love rules above malice. I still carry hope that one day I shall reside there and be immersed in its grandeur. The heart shall be healed and renewed. With love in reach, my oppression will be diminished, my confidence will once again be restored, and the sense of being valued will be forever gained. In such a place, no more searching will be needed; the existence of love will flow through every entity, spreading like an unimpeded blaze and devouring any forms of rancor in its path. As my mind reckons further, this place appears to become valid, does it not? By all means not on earth, for it is the home of cruelty. Therefore, is it not Heaven in which I describe?

　

My Poem: A Moment of Stillness

Stillness
Envelopes the momentary worries
Carries the troubles into the distance
Where they drift into the abyss
Calming the raging sea
Relief pours in like a flood
An instance of joy is created
A single laugh breaks through
Mirthful thoughts collide
Obliterating negativity
Light illuminates the path
For the eyes to have sight
To walk with guidance
With confidence
With no more glances behind
The soul sings out
Trust is revealed
To have the utmost assurance
Loneliness will never come
Solitary no longer exists
Truth is uncovered
With the slightest patience
Concord is breached
Without hesitation
Uncovering regrets
To be faced for the last time
A chance to let go
To move on
Truth is no longer hidden
Only faced
Guilt is washed away
Cleanliness transpires
Freedom is obtained
All forgotten
In the end
There is only stillness

My Poem: The Power of Snow

The white enchanting pearls descend from above
Floating in an airless flight
Dancing with such grace to an imaginary melody
While filling the vicinity with the innocence and purity of a dove
Covering the outer skins of the bare trees
With the glimmering shine of zeal
Hiding the traces of the stained nadir
Arising a field of glistening diamonds
Brisk in essence
Yet flushed with energy
.......
A single crow doth fly by
The single blemish a reminder of the existence of iniquity
When another doth appear followed with more
All is covered in ebony feathers
That spread rapidly
Transforming the beauty into a terrain of infirmity
All forgotten but wickedness
.......
Until the pouring of pearls once more begins
Hiding the traces of the stained nadir
Overcoming the corruption
And once again all is back as it was before
Drifting gems consume the sky
In a shield of white
Cascading in an elated stream in silence
Leaving behind only a reminder

My Poem: Here I Stand...Forever

Here I stand
Waiting for all to assuredly fall apart
Within the obscure depths of this battered heart
That cries out ..
That dies out..
For it can no longer take the pain
It can no longer stay sane
So here I stand
Waiting for the chance
To take that final stance
Against the cutting edges of this blight
In which traps me in its miserable plight
Wanting to believe an escape would somehow appear
However, knowing one will never draw near
All I am able to do is wait
And endure my inevitable fate
Here I stand
With no where left to turn
I can only accept the lingering burn
From the hole in my chest
That will never have a chance to rest

My Poem: The Wall I Built

M

Stone Wall
Enduring the decay of time
Debris piling in layers within the cement cracks
Attempting to induce its foundation to crumble
Yet its form is still sturdy and strong
Soaring toward the heavens in praise for its protection

Day after day
Stone after stone comes tumbling to the ground
Caused by the affliction of others
While holy hands pick them up
Returning them to their proper place
Restoring their refinement
Polishing them with grace

Day after day
The wall creates a barrier
Enclosing around my fragile heart
Protecting it from possible torment
From ever making mistakes
From ever experiencing disappointment
From ever beating to the fullest

Yet there is Hope
Slowly pouring forth through the cracks
Soaking into the stones
And once more into the heart
Dying it from black to scarlet
Allowing it to drink and be refreshed

So that it may breathe the life of God
And no longer be suffocated
To trust once more
And no longer having to protect and instead live
To experience the light once more
To reach out without fear
To no longer be forever hidden behind a wall
In the shadows

My Poem: I Wish to Sleep

The rippling grass sways to and fro while the gale collects the meadow's reap,
Serenity clings to the air with all of its might,
Do not be bothersome for I wish to sleep.


Resting in the warmth of the golden light,
Eyes sealed, drifting within a permanent dream,
Do not search for I am no longer in sight.


The distance sounds forth a call from an endless stream,
A watery slumber it doth cry,
Do not assume all is what it may seem.


For there the pieces of a shattered heart doth lie,
Scattered among the rushing depths in dispose,
Do not attempt to gather them; no need to try.


The brimming trees in the field line appose,
Marking the mound of bliss,
Do not be bothersome for I wish to repose.


To stay and weep for the one I truly miss,
In the presence of death's lingering kiss.

Candle of Meaning

There is a candle in the window
Dim, yet prevailing over the night's black veil
Its flickering light a beacon
Guiding the mind toward the edge of imagination
Releasing thick fumes of inspiration
Consuming the oxygen of life
Dancing to the rhythm of passion
Burning with the intensity of desire
Illuminating the path into the heart
Casting a shadow over the eyes of solitude
Lingering through the chilling hour
Producing silence that sounds forth power
Withstanding the blows of oppression
Exposing the heat of the moment
Signaling the possibility of danger
Dim, yet prevailing over the night's black veil
There is a candle in the window

My Poem: Afraid to love

For what shall I do?
When my heart yearns to be loved
To savor the intense scarlet flame of affection
To grasp it and never unleash its chains
To extend its modest hand toward others
And accept it in return
Yet retreat from each oppurtunity

For what shall I do?
When each time you draw closer
And I no longer stand my ground
Fleeing from the words spoken inside
Fleeing to never glance back over my shoulder
With cascading tears of regret

For what shall I do?
When dismay controls
When fear takes place
Revealing possible dissapointment
Revealing my defective fault
Of being terrified to love
Of being loved in return

For what shall I do?
When I am terrified of the potential outcome
Or the possibility of giving my heart away
And recieving another
Of changing
Of being worthy

For what shall I do?
When I am the coward
Who is afraid to love
And be loved

My Poem: Dear Heavenly Father

How beautiful does Your name sound in my ear,
The whispers of Your humble grace fill the surrounding air,
And such joy consumes my heart when Your presence is near,
To lean off Your path......I do not dare.

I admit, the walk upon this disheveled path is a complex fate,
Numerous bends appear before my weary feet,
And deciding which is golden only leaves me in a perplex state,
For these detours are not a simple one way street.

Therefore, I come forth and present to You all that is worthy in Your name,
Even though a minute amount it may seem to be,
I do so with my head raised before You, revealing no traces of shame,
And my eyes containing wonderous vision so that Your miracles they may see.

Lord, provide me with the strength to face the fierce battles ahead,
To live with valor in order to never forsake,
And to forgive those who upon me do tread,
For leaning on your path......will never be a mistake.

Your love for me is similar to a rich cloud pouring forth abundant rain,
Endlessly flowing to shroud me thoroughly, sinking down to my core,
With each drop it binds together my torn filaments, healing the pain,
Allowing me to glance foward at what You have in store.

Thankful I truely am to bed blessed with Your breathe,
And for the ultimate sacrifice you paid upon the cross,
For you are the reason why I hold no fear for death,
Or why I no longer stumble when I am at a loss.

Further lead me when I have once again went astray,
And guide each step I take with the utmost care,
For under no circumstance will I cease to follow your way,
To lean off of Your chosen path for me.....I do not dare.

Amen.

My Reminder: Taken Away

Til this very day that spot in my heart will not go away.
It is nothing but empty space, for it can never be filled.
Cold and dreary, still in its stage of mourning.
How I long for it to flee from my essence and never come back.
This power I truely do lack.
I no longer have the strength to keep the agony from winning, therefore my world keeps spinning.
Been taken away and that empty spot is all there is to show for it.
Darkness fills my endless pit.
Been taken away from what should have been life.
It was stolen by fate, the thing I now truely hate.
Left are only what ifs and what could have beens.
Why me I always say, even til this very day.
Why was I taken away.
Over and over the same response sounds in the distance.
Before me lies the world I now reside in.
Filled with my imaginary visions of what was to be.
That block my sight so that I can no longer see.
It is when I finally come back to reality does that space within yearn to be finally consumed.
To be forgotten so that I can move on.
To forgive in order to move on.
It twice transformed my life and has only left me scars to cover and hover over me.
The first occurance ended in disaster but it is the key.
For it inflicted on my life the most, now treating me as its host.
To laugh at me, to show me no mercy.
Such first experience, my body regularily endured the blows from the hands.
Until the point of my feet failing me and I would fall.
Then the pain swept over my body sounding its desperate call,
For help. For comfort. For love.
Oh how I long for the reminders to flee from my essence and never come back.
This power I truely do lack.
I no longer have the strength to keep the agony from winning, therefore my world keeps spinning.
For I have been taken away and that empty spot is all I have to show for it.
Darkness fills my endless pit.
Such life was to contain no abuse.
But I was taken away by fate, the thing I now truely hate.
Now reminders make their mark on my fragile state.....

My Poem: No One Knows

The heart hurts from all of the inflictions of life,
Always crying out for help due to such great strife.
No one ever hears the pleas forever pouring out,
Even when they seem to shout.
The eyes regularly show evidence of the red flag,
And the feet, with each step, constantly drag.
Everyone walks by having no clue of the pain within,
While a forced smile greets them as kin.
One side of the story has never been fully told,
Therefore, a mask will the hand then hold.
Each morning it is placed upon the face,
In order to hide away any trace,
Of what the heart truely feels,
In which this mask now conceals,
Away from all.
But the cry still does call,
For someone to hear.

My Poem: Who I Adore

Grandeur spills from every crevice of His holy face,
Pouring from the effulgent heaven about toward my on this poisonous ground,
He infiltrates the endless depths of my being filling my empty space,
For he is the lustrous guide in which i found.

King of Kings is He who fabricated my flesh and blood using His humble hands,
He is my beginning, my end, the justification for my subsistence.
So gracious is He to bestow me  breathe in order to follow his commands,
And to give second chances to me for my faults without resistance.

The perfect image is He while i a ruined page in His book,
I am feeble and frail as He is almighty in all.
Nor am i worthy for his abundance, yet still upon me he doth look,
Even more, it his His cleansed hands that lift me up when i happen to fall.

I am in no comparison to my beloved creator whom i adore,
Yet He will be my guide forever more.