A Sense of Belonging

I do not belong here
Among the low of spirits and the weak of hearts
Of those whose tongues be shamed
Though I must speak of it the same

.

I do not belong here
Among the empty dreams and failed attempts
For I dream of Life and Love
A vision of peace and wonder sent from above

.

I do not belong here

though only now I realize I know

I have never felt the way my mind accepted

My heart always knew it couldn’t know

.

Though I sense so much more of where I belong

I know I have been wrong

My voice carries on meanings which have slipped passed my judgement

My mind carries on memories of the feelings

memories of the words

memories of the tears

.

I seem to have forgotten these times, though I search for meaning
I will never forget the feeling
It is of a time and setting misplaced

.

I know I do not belong here, yet I can not envision any other place

I can only sense I know another face

I belong among valor and love
I belong among the proud and virtuous

.

Let my mind speak to me and remind me why I am here
I have forgotten the purpose
And my soul waits

Let my heart speak to me and show me the reason
I feel imprisoned to a time, though not the hour which I seek

Let my soul and I complete

Be in quest of this place

the one and only of our dreams

the one of which we belong

 

 

It is interesting how we look for meaning and answers….

“why is this my life?”, “why am I the way that I am?”, “when will these thoughts and feelings make sense?”.

It is interesting how we forget the lessons we have learned along the way, as if searching for one answer is not enough, we seem to overlook it in our failed attempt to see the “big picture”. I am tired of being so selfish… I stopped writing the poem below because I can not justify my visions… whose to say where I belong? I realize that it should definitely not be me. I am persuaded by my desires. I dance with my ego and have become partner when once I was lead… A sense of belonging, perhaps one which was never meant to be…

 

Hope and Destiny

Dear Hope and Destiny,

Waiting, as I have been. Watching, as I have been also… I sit and ponder you tonight,  as I have many times over the years… it seems as if you are simply hidden from me. Is it my lot to live the same days over and over? Feel the same emotions. Envision the same dream year after year… it seems it may be that my destiny may simply be to live… and by live I mean exist. It would also seem negative or narrow… but it is my truth.

I remember when I was younger… I had hope… hope and destiny… a dream that there was something great on the horizon… one of my dreams… I remember when I was younger, do you? Perhaps one day you will…

Lately my nights have been dreamless as have been my days. I can’t write. I haven’t had the nightly inspirations which engulf me in my sleep, for sleep too has eluded me. Uninspired… I suppose.

 

Anyway, I stray…

 

It would seem my destiny and hope are on holiday… I wish you well.

 

Writing from where I am alive,

Enreal

The final task

I turn to find
Shadows by my side

I dream of a life
I had tossed and left behind

I close my eyes
I hear the wind and clouds divide

Touching I feel
What I sensed all along was real

I dream of death
Too generous and close to touch

Time lived in the past
Alone with time at last

I question times disguise
I seek answers to my demise

The ground is cold and calling
The sky is red and falling

I am alone at last
Free to breathe one last breath

I am alone at last
Time will part and I will rest

But time and shadows play

The end spoken for another day

Time will not remove its mask

Alone and calling for its final task

Open and listen

 

 

 

 

 

Are you truly alone you ask?

Or are you at peace here with the shadows and the mask

Now be still and listen

You shall hear your final task…

I wonder

I wonder what it would be like to be in another mind… think in another way… see through anothers eyes

I wonder what it would be like to love… feel the light and laughter of another heart… live and breathe for another life

I wonder what it would be like to feel… or simply not feel this… I wonder.

It is funny often we wonder. Dream.

How often we feel. Every emotion.

Minds and hearts frantically competing for victory.

Be it for a moment. Yet endless.

Another life. Another dream. Another day to simply be.

Would the answer be the same?

Simply from another view,

Understood and made from the spoken language, Life

Seen as if written by time.

I wonder indeed if all these philosophies are real?

Thoughts and Visions

Questions.

That’s all.

I wonder  if I could stop.

“Will I stop wondering? I don’t know. Perhaps. Sometimes it seems less complicated that way”

~ Enreal

Maybe

Maybe next time I’ll dance

Live with no limitations

Be free from my demands


Maybe next time I’ll smile

Dance with my emotions

Be free from the shadows of the sad


Maybe next time I’ll try

to simply be

For a short while

Me


Maybe next time in another place

At another point of life

Another juncture

Something new

I was daydreaming for a short while. Living in the moment, living in my dream. I was important, I was beautiful, I was full of joy, I was free from hope. For hope had succeeded, in my daydream. I was free from my fears. For a short while I was happy in my mind.

The scene finally focused and there I was… here I was… living in my reality. I thought… next life I will live… this is simply practice… seeing all I could be doing in my next life…

Then I realized

I gave up.

I give up.

Am I really ready to give up on my dreams? Am I really ready to settle? Am I really ready to wait for the next time? Am I?

All I can say is maybe I am. I am tired. I am disappointed. I had my dreams, now all I have is reality setting in. The reality that I see… is not the beautiful visions of my dreams.

Once upon a time… there lived a girl, she was special, beautiful, important… This girl was full of joy and free from fear.

One day she fell asleep and awoke in a new world… it was very strange and alien to anything she had ever seen before… it was when she gazed at her reflection did she see she was real… the scene was real… it was as true as her mind let her believe… when she tried to fall asleep to return home… she realised there was no going back, she realised the dream had been truly a dream, and this new reality was her future…

to be asleep, to be awake, to believe in what we need to see… is this what it means to be real? Or maybe we see what we need to believe…

Maybe

In another life


Maybe next time I will live