Healing and growth through intuitive art
Weeds grow haphazardly in the village
And the village travels like a boat
On the face of history
To reach its destination
Aren’t the weeds distracting to the travel?
And what’s the village’s goal, if not
To travel while the weeds distract?
And why is the goal so far away
Along the waves of words,
And not right here, right now?
Can joy live in darkness
Where it is dense
With blinding light,
Where clumps of small explosions
Turn around
With menace?
Can I find my true life in chaos?
No
My life is independent
And pain is happening in it.
In my little garden of dreams I swim I find the red hard to chew But the green invites me The yellows warm me up The grays advise to rest I see the screens That tell of being open and enclosed I see the big lines Building lives and falling But now It's up to me I can close my eyes To have a different thought And where do you think I'll be When they will open?
There is fire in my feet
But I am dancing
And lifting my heavy heart
A bird comes out from my head
Another bird is kissing me
I see my mom resting
On a big pink cloud
I am ready to sail on the river now
To pass the pasture
And come to my new playing field
I am quiet
I am strong
I only do what feels good to me
I am free.
The bird wants to fly
On her own
She slowly disconnects
From where she stands
Wanting to fly
Takes its energy
From the sun
And it is light
Hesitation
To leave the earth
Is from the fear
And it is heavy
For many years
It seemed that
She has flown
And stayed
It took a lifetime
To slowly be
More airborne
Than earthbound
One
Lifetime
Which is
No time at all.
The parts of the head
And shoulders
Spread to all the wrong places
As if they were kids
In a school intermission
Instead of being controlled
By the rules
They freely followed
Their hearts
As a result
Harmony settled in
In which
Effortlessly
All individual whims together
Became the complete expression
Of the one.
The queen had a party
The guests drank and talked
Around the table
But I wanted to sleep
So she made a bed for me
Nearby
I sank in
Among the big pillows
The words of a book
Appeared
And I read them in my sleep
Nerve pain woke me up
Where in the book was I?
I left with all the guests
Not before
I saw the queen
Getting into that same bed
Saying:
How nice that it is warm
I let the others go
And came back to fetch my shoes
But the royal cat attacked me twice
And fell on its back
Like a rag
I gave up
I laughed
The dream of my life was lying broken
On the floor
And light was coming
Through the cracks.
The mind creates magnetic fields
Within what do they live?
They live in the truth
The truth is everywhere
And it is the only thing
That cannot be destructed
Therefore
It is not a thing
Trees grow from the earth
They eat the earth and drink water
They soak the sun
They breath the air
Like us
The earth and water are
The sun is
The air is
Products of the ancient mind
And are influenced by my own
Current mind
My mind
Is a traveling choice maker in infinity
Using the old truth
As clay
To be shaped with imagination
Hey
Everything is me!
All the questions that we have
Lead us to one final question
And all the power that our questions have
Comes from leading us to this
The question is: Who am I?
Or what am I?
And there is no answer to this question
Because we are the freedom
To be as we wish
Or as our heart yearns
And it is, in the end,
To be ourselves.
My old brother sits in the room of our childhood
The trees in the yard
Move slightly in the wind
Inside of his body
The clouds, one big one small
Throw a ball between them
A picture that he made one summer
Still hangs
And every step that he took
Upon the reddish earth of the village
Has left a clear imaginary mark
In the infinity that he is.
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