Does it give you hope to know your dreams are real, your hopes alive. Your imagination is actually speaking to you in images that exist slightly beyond your grasp.
Does it make you wish bigger, see clearer? Or does it break your heart to know that somewhere, anywhere other than here… at this exact moment you are happy.
Alive in your dreams, in your hopes… your imagination is reality… somewhere, other than here
I know you are there
The silence is blinding
Burning with hope
I know you can hear
The echo rings violence
I watched you in silence
I heard you breathe
I know you can see
The reflective embers
Tears form hard as crystals
Descending slow from shadowed eyes
I know you can feel
Slowly ascending up the spine
The tired and broken
Sheltered in your cells divide
I know all this
I know all there is
I know you are there
In the shadow of the mind
Awake
Observing
For eternity is in time
My mind goes back
Memory pays respect to those places
My awareness retracts
Familiarity carries on to those places
My soul speaks in tongues
It opens gateways of shadow and light to those places
.
.
Kneeling
Before them in those places
They speak so clear
I can hear
I can feel
I can understand them and their foreign tongues
In their foreign land
The land for which I long
The land from which I belong
.
.
My words do not come forward for I can not speak
My voice is silent
Yet they hear me
They see me
They smile with me
In those places
.
My heart
My soul
MySelf
I
I understand
I am content
In those places
.
.
Slowly I turn and see
The oceans
The suns
The moons
The rings of light and color
All in the sky
Or is it below
The ground of magic and shadows of light
the dust is alive with memories and dreams
The blades of grass which dance and laugh
the waters which run spring and jump with happiness and life
Or are they
Above
.
Awareness distracts once more
I have seen and forgotten the foreign shore
The break within the mind
The moments lost in the ocean of time
.
Again
I say farewell
Those places
Shall sleep
For now
But not for long
.
.
for what was known in a dream
again I shall see
for within the slightest memory
we are revealed to what is and what shall always be
I can not describe in words what I feel, but I will try. It is a sad victory I win. An engrossing battle that wages against sense. A constant struggle that time and time again stares me in the face and weakly smiles in defeat… and in bittersweet triumph.
What is this I feel? I can not explain, yet once again I try reason, I try faith. I try to understand what is happening…
I watch life as it passes. Living behind who I am and who I should be. Living with who I know and who I could be. Waiting and silently forgetting the voice which has spoken beautiful dreams to my soul. Choosing not to listen to the dreams for the fear of losing is far worse than truly accepting what could be, even if only in a dream.
What a beautiful dream.
So for now I can not describe in words what I feel, so I leave it invisible to my eyes, while ringing vibrations to my soul. My soul knows these invisible dreams, thoughts and fears… and although I can not explain, I have no need to explain…
The only need is to say, I am sorry
Ever conceptualize time? Not mathematical, or scientific, just time. What time we receive is objective and relative… it is too short. When we realize what we have…it is gone. We live our lives not alive. We try to make something out of nothing that matters. Our careers, money, power…What are we doing?
Is this life? Is this living? Do we not need fulfillment? Do these thing fulfill?
Time is funny. We blink, aware that we are 28. Blink again 45. Is time a thief?
One could assume so, blame time for our wasted lives. Wasted opportunities. Why not blame ourselves? We could look back on the past, what we know of it. We could see that humans have been around for thousands of years. Life has been present for millions of years. And we are given 80 (if we are lucky) years. That is a blink. If not a blink, a thought of a blink. If that.
We blame and not accept responsibility for our lives. We make and create what is apparent. We live and want what does not matter. We breathe and take for granted the air. We are not seeing the possibilities. We wait for something bigger to come along, instead of interpreting reality… We don’t say what we need to say, because we think, we think we have another day. We think we have it coming to us. Then what?
Is time a thief? I think it is we who steal from time. We take and take…waste and waste. And want more, blaming time for taking the things we want most away. In that sense. It is you and I who are the thieves. Time should not be blamed anymore. Let it be. We need start living. Taking in what has been given to us…For no matter how long we have, we have it and so many don’t.
In these thoughts I ask you questions… I know not all perceive time as I do… perhaps I am jaded… perhaps I am tired… Either way, there are many out there who are stronger than I… who would say time is the bearer and we are the reapers… either way… there are many who say time is a blessing… I would agree with a grain of doubt… sometimes time is funny
And there it was… her message. the meaning of it all… For how long she had searched, she never truly understood until that moment…
“Wake up!” The shout echoed through her mind.
The alarm clock buzzed.
She lay in bed.
Searching for her meaning.
On the ceiling
I remembered a time
A time which did not belong to me
I remembered a place
A place which existed only for me
I heard a prayer
A prayer which parted my lips only decades before
I felt so sure
The knowing I lived with
the knowing I died with
the knowing I created
forever shall be
forever has been
with.
me .
forever.
As I pray once more
it remains
forever before
Journals Of Enreal 