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(
[sid] => 142141
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => depictive and dazzling daydreams
[time] => 2008-05-05 07:21:45
[hometext] => Dedicated to my father, mother, younger boy cousins, ages 6 and 1 &1/2, my great uncle and grandfather
[bodytext] => Prose- “Depictive and Dazzling Daydreams”--- REALISTIC FICTION. As the sun pours in and brightens the pale blue walls of my den, through the fingerprinted window, I watch the outside clouds, floating by, like fluffy pillows. I smile contentedly, and push back the silky curtains to get a better glimpse of the rapidly growing, brightly colored willow. As I close my eyes, I picture a luscious vineyard, alive with fruits, a multicolored sense of Jesus’ compassion and presence, in my mind. Also, I imagine and cherish the valuable gift of time. Having been spiritually in touch with Jesus again, I open my eyes, being very patient with myself. After this brief awakening, I realize that I am one of many-simply a pilgrim of The Lord, who is here to guide and help. The flowing, luxurious feeling of joy tingles through my veins and cascades down my spine. Realization of such great truth enters into my thoughts and mind. Feeling spiritually fed and nourished, I want to spread this self-informed, fresh perspective to others. I feel as though others can and should, like myself reach beyond the starry sky—strive for the infinite questions, answers and wonders. If others can find the hand to unlatch their window, I will feel spiritually empowered, intensified mentally, and more competent, in the way of understanding. For myself, I branch out to my Higher Power; for others it may be their flowers have not reached full bloom, or perhaps they are still budding. My dreams can take me to any destination I want to go. They are a rich part of what makes living life so interesting, memorable and worthwhile. Without dreams---my goals can wander, roam into my mind’s ocean---my personality can fluctuate and go freestyle. My dreams are what I strive to reach, and I pursue them, piece by piece. Courage is at the tip of my tongue, on the edge of my mind and beating inside my heart. Without courage, I allow myself to tolerate injustice and destruction to others, who clearly don’t know that this is not their fault. Courage is conquering your greatest fears, enemies and worries---it is the strength to stand up for the people fighting off vicious and scary bullies. Courage is the the ability to speak up with simple words, that have power to heal. Being able and willing to say simple phrases, I am allowing myself to be unique, and real. Simplicity is, sometimes, going without so that someone else can have enough of what they need, or want. Often times, I do not realize this, but we all as humans, have a tendency to show too much of what we have, then we flaunt. Materialistic items are nice, but simpler thoughts and ideas--- such as a jaunty stroll with the dog, a look at the clear sky, or the exhilaration of a bubble bath---can most often, be the most valuable. It is sometimes hard for me not to always want, need or crave materialistically---in fact; it seems a relatively constant urge and battle. One of my more open fears is that without evanescent and mercenary items, my corner of my true, inner creativist's universe will be revealed, yet incomplete. Thus, when and if this happens, I must cover my paint splattered canvas, and peruse a new canvas sheet. My fears are what occasionally enlighten, persevere and, self willingly, depress me---only to keep me moving forward in spite of them. Powerful, harbored, and festering are my fears---simple yet complex; a stone but yet a gem. My fears can drive me to the seemingly unattainable; to keep me climbing up the rope, until I reach the top of my mountain by force or by will; by exhaustion or by hope. Having the ability to acknowledge my fears, is for myself personally, great strides in inner strength. Expressing this virtue either vocally, or knowing mentally, shows improvements that are baffling, but yet progress at significant lengths. Strength is measured by self-value, and healed by tincture of time. As I allow myself to regain poise, worth, wholeness, a recovered mindset, I am able to let go, and make peace of my past time. Strength is in the tiniest insect, to the strongest man alive. Strength is a virtue that grows, and as it continually develops, it becomes like a swarm of bees---they continually feed and migrate---always returning to their hive. Strength is developed by questions that yearn to be answered—unravelled slowly like a scroll. Once I can ask questions, there is a more uplifting chance of being in control. Questions are as bountiful, boundless, and plentiful as the sea, and sometimes, as random and curvy as life’s roller coaster tracks. Questions can be gentle and smooth as a piece of marble, or as probing and piercing as a set of thumbtacks. As I allow myself to ask questions, wonder ---puzzle and discover about curiosities---I cling to the firm, endless array of possible contemplation and ideas of which to ponder. Questions delicately behold the curiosities of my hopes. The drifting balloons of hope can allow me to experience the little hill, then the slippery slope. My hopes can feed me---nourish the hunger, and quench the thirst to be spiritually restored; the eagerness to spread the words of joyous feelings of inner clarity, peace and serenity when it is found---and then put this all together to fix this jumbled and mysterious puzzle of my calling and destiny. As I somewhat clumsily, and blindly reach towards my hopes ---my everything--- my inner peace, focus and clarity subtly cleanse and purify my mind, body and soul. My hopes can keep me moving forward and optimistically, or they can appear to be unraveling like a scroll, with little contentment inside. My hopes can comfort me, even in times of fragile desperation. Comfort can keep myself in sync and tuned in with my serenity station. Comfort is as warm and cozy as a blanket, or as harsh and snappy as a chilly, spine tingling wind. Comfort is the feeling of your worries, fears, and foes, temporarily, from your heart---unpinned. As I allow comfort to be let into my heart and soul, my worries pour down the tubes, sometimes even for just the moment. Comfort has beauty unveiled; the truth of knowing your strengths, passions, fears and ailments. Knowledge is important when it comes to comfort; it was at a certain point in time, when I observed my talents, and weaknesses. Enthusiastic, I have worked hard to overcome this in my life—a once seemingly time of emptiness and bleak foundations. Knowledge is one of many virtues when it comes to my hopes, passions, and dreams---multicolored, sensitive, beautiful and transforming---it is the hand to which unlocks the latch of my fingerprinted, now paint splattered, window; there is no reasons to hide. Knowledge goes hand in hand with clarity, tainted with the intellect of knowing that the breeze of life being not a Ferris Wheel, rather just a spectactular, yet for most, an interesting ride. Clarity is the brilliant and joyous emotion of knowing that no matter how abstract my feelings may be at a certain point in time, the sun shall still shine the next day. Even with the most concrete of expressions, clarity beams splendor--- above and beyond the rain--- and washes it away. From ashes to ashes; dust to dust; clarity is the building block on which we can then understand our other personal trials and tribulations, from God. Clarity has a seemingly very truthful connection with peace, and my unruffled feathers. When a storm comes over my rays of sunshine, peace drifts—sometimes slowly, into the domain of weather. Peace is the calm sensation of happiness, tenderness, and beauty---all entwined into one emotion. Without peace, my world becomes vacant, and one, big whirlwind of chaos; I keep spinning, constantly in the propelling, sometimes self defeating type of motion. Peace is a goal that myself and others in our world continually strive for; but never fully reaching our destination. I believe, that peace is something that must be uplifted from one hundred percent of the peoples' hearts; it is a dynamic, I think personally, of looking in a mirror and seeing a reflection. Peace ties in with serenity, for the reasoning that I am in true accordance with my carefully spinning orbit. In my falsely realistic and imaginary cosmos, my sphere of serenity encompasses the dignity, and respect of wisdom in it. Serenity is the most gorgeous, brightly colored rainbow I have ever seen--- sensitivity, many virtues engrossed into one word, one expression of true faith, and dedication. Balloons, and confetti rise from martyr to ---not quite near anything such as a saint---whole human being; the web of life and death delicately woven into truth, beauty and intuition. Serenity is knowing I am at peace with myself, and being contented with that feeling. Sometimes, I have to let in that tranquil, glorified, joyful sense of being. Wisdom is one of many virtues when it comes to my life---dense, honest, clarified and sincere. Once I open my mind's eye, I am allowing myself to let The Lord appear. Wisdom from elderly people is prophetic, kind, and cherished. For once I look back in ten years, the wisdom I perhaps had forgotten, or ignored, is still golden, though rather tarnished. As the sun goes down behind the willow---triumph, awe, beauty and wonder flock over me---I have discovered the keys to serenity, peace and clarity, and then, in that moment, I have found the hand to open and unlatch my fingerprinted, paint splattered, and now illuminated window. [comments] => 1 [counter] => 211 [topic] => 55 [informant] => xoDEEP_poetx3 [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => dedicatedpoems )
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