February 13, 2021
Continued from A New Story Begins Again
February 13, 2021
Continued from A New Story Begins Again
February 9, 2021
…plugging into the power source
Me & Mr. Cat 😊😺
December 4, 2020
The final chapter of The Retelling of an Old Tale.
She does seek.
Words of cunning
Does she speak–
To poison the mind
Against the soul—enmity
Is her goal.
And so, the tale of
Ever must be told;
Take care tender-heart, lest ye forget, and
Upon you should
Her addiction take hold…
In all my ways
She did I desire,
So within my mind was kindled a fire–
That burned my very senses
In an all
So that my defenses were destroyed
For the length of my days…
Oh Andúil’s sorrow!
Her addiction will never appease
Empty promises of pleasure
Only ever a tease
To keep the tender-hearted
Ever craving her dis-ease!
One by one,
They return to Andúil
Begging on their scabby knees;
The tender-hearted, hooked and hollow eyed demand, “You must help us…” (and with a pitiful cry) “…please.”
And to the one who lost, yet overcame
No longer to be be sold,
Real compassion turns
A new tale
Now be told:
Of the battle betwixt mind and soul–
And of the Lion-hearted;
Deep within the fragile self,
A true stronghold—never again to be parted.
Thank you for journeying with me on this tale of hope and the human condition.
May these words inspire beauty, compassion and hope.
November 25, 2020
Continued fromImplications of Our Actions.
And the tear that
Was not for himself
The one he knew
He had failed
“Dearest Chaitanya, 1008 lifetimes have you and I together traversed the Universe. Always I am with you. Always…you forget me. Always you get yourself into trouble!”
The boy lowers his eyes and stares at his feet. The girl, lifts his chin with a gentle touch of her hand (smiling), “But you know my heart is stronger than that!” Both he and she laughing now at the realization of the dream within the dream, settle back into a state of ease:
“When the dark-mist rose (as it so often does), when we walked amongst the clouds, and all sense of me, was lost to you–I went to the place pre-arranged—the place wherein dwells the angel (you know of whom I speak). There the angel and I did wait, (three days and three nights alone) until the time you and I had pre-agreed: that I should call out your name.
Your name at first did I call quietly, then louder, and louder still—until you awoke from your dream (within the dream)—and remembered the place we prearranged to meet–should you ever lose all sense of me.”
Chaitanya now gazing into those crystalline eyes, “Arielle, you give me courage and hope to overcome, each and every battle we may encounter together.” And now with a twinkle in his own freshly watered eyes, “And I Myself, the most stubborn battle to overcome—“
“God willing 1008 lifetimes may we yet be reborn together!”
“So that I may remember—“
“Who loves you and me?”
“You know me!”
Arielle with a delighted giggle, flung her tiny arms around Chaitanya’s neck, and kissing him sweetly on the cheek, “It’s time go Chai. Time to be born.”
And Chaitan taking in a deep breath before softly sighing, “To the place wherein dwells the angel?”
“Yes, Chai. If in this lifetime you should ever lose sight of me…I’ll be right behind you. Do you remember what you told me? What the ants taught you?
“Our mother may reject us. Friends may leave us. Always there is this possibility so look within your own self and—“
“—remember who loves you?”
“Exactly! Throughout this life we must take care of ourselves and—“
“Yes. And each other.”
So with one last embrace of well wishes and hopes; diving in head first
“See you soon, Ariellah!”
She could just discern faint cries of the babe as she herself ready to dive in—
“Yes Chai. See you soon.”
Almost the end. To be continued…
Thank you for taking this journey through the inner-self with me. I hope you’ve enjoyed my retelling of this old tale. May the words told here create beautiful images in your own mind’s crystalline eyes. May you too remember who loves you.
October 17, 2020
Continued from Smiling, A New Day Dawns.
Act 1. Scene 1. The setting: A bookstore in a slightly seedy section of downtown where artists and poets meet to argue the meaning of life. A well lit university library.
Act 1. Scene 1. “Other People’s Words”
The setting: A ‘hole in the wall’ bookstore where some broken souls go to find pieces of their missing selves in other people’s words.
She: A plain but pretty young woman of about 20 years old wearing a thick gray oversized sweater (reminiscent of a cocoon) and a black fedora hat. She sits cross legged on the floor somewhere between the “Self-Help” and “Eastern Philosophy” aisle. On her lap is a selection of books from which she reads the tables of contents. While she minds her own business, at the same time she watches the comings and goings.
He: Also a plain, handsome and slightly melancholic young man; he enters from stage left wearing a dark trench coat.. He is quickly scanning the shelves looking for a particular book that he can’t seem to find. Rounding the corner, absorbed in his mission—he nearly trips over her.
He: (With surprise) “Oh hey, I didn’t see you there! I almost fell over you!”
She: (Looking up noticing the color of his blue/green eyes, she smiles) “Hi.”
He: (Awkwardly regaining his composure, looking down at her lap, pointing to the book on top) “What a strange coincidence. You have the book I’ve been looking for!”
Falling Down the Mountain: Yoga in the 21st Century by NZain.
She: (Without averting her eyes, hands him said book and for a brief moment—they touch.)
Her thoughts: (Inwardly) Something in him just touched something in me as I felt his fingers brush against mine. Something electrifying…or perhaps he just touched a nerve? I am curious about this stranger. He seems so familiar.
He: (Now gazing at her intensely) “Thank you. That’s very kind of you…seem so familiar to me. Have we met before?”
And then from the “Politics and Religion” aisle, several voices (two females and a male) could be heard shouting and making violent accusations.
He: (Turning in the direction of the shouting and then back to her) “Would you like get a cup of coffee? (Hand to his heart) My treat.”
She: (Nodding, leaving her books behind, she rises to meet his outstretched hand)
Together, she and the stranger, exit the bookstore. He instinctively puts a protective arm around her shoulder as they cross the busy street.
Act 1. Scene 2. “The Cafe Across the Street.”
The setting: A bustling cafe with large armchairs and an even larger pastry selection.
She: (Stepping up to the counter) “Cappuccino, please.”
He: “Two. And a slice of your dark chocolate salted caramel pie…two forks?” (turning towards her shrugging his shoulders with a boyish grin) “I have a sweet tooth.”
She: (Blushing) “Me too.”
Her thoughts: In this light his eyes appear gray…
They spy two vacant armchairs by the front window over-looking the busy street. As they begin to make their way, the stranger’s cell-phone rings. He nearly drops his cappuccino. She watches him intently. Is that a bead of sweat on his forehead? She surmises the caller must either be a woman or a bill collector.
He: (Putting his cappuccino down on the table and with a nervous smile) “Will you excuse me for just a moment? I need to take this call. (with a reassuring look) I’ll be right back.”
He moves to the far window and looking around, puts the phone to his ear and tucks into his trench coat collar.
She sinks into the oversized chair while a cafe server places an oversized slice of pie on the table.
Sever: (Attempting humor) “We call this the ‘Addict’s Crack’ pie. Enjoy!”
She glances up from under her fedora at the stranger. He sees her, nods and turns away. It’s then she notices, as he brushes his hand through his tousled hair, he is wearing a mood ring the same color as his hazel eyes.
Her thoughts: How odd and sweet. A mood ring. I should probably leave now, but…there’s just something about him I need to know more.
He: (Making a point to turn off his phone) “I’m sorry about that. My EX calling to let me know–”
She: “Is she pretty?”
He: (With a sigh of relief) “Before the relapse. Yes. She was very pretty, but meth is an ugly drug.”
She: “And it’s hard for you to let her go?”
He: “Incredible. You seem to understand me so well and I don’t even know your name! (nervous laughter) “It must be fate that brought you and I together…”
He continues to talk about this and that while she slowly and methodically moves a forkful of pie to her mouth.
He: “…so tell me about you. What’s your name?”
She: (WAKE UP! WAKE UP! WAKE UP!) “Mmm…this is really good pie.”
She awakes with a start. “Where am I?” Allowing her eyes a moment to adjust to the pale moonlight shining on her new surroundings, “I’ve been writing in my sleep again and my bladder is full. Now… (she looks around) where is the bathroom?”
Thank you for reading. Your thoughtful comments are always welcomed and appreciated.
Continued from The Long Journey Home.
October 18, 2020
August 27, 2020
August 25, 2020
August 24, 2020
August 20, 2020
Katy did you hear the symphony last night?
The strings played so sweetly
I thought I just might
Be in heaven…
And angels would sing—
But all was quiet—they too
Must’ve been listening.
Summer’s symphony soon to be gone…
So I with a sigh and a yawn—
Fluttered off to sleep where
Dreams of winter’s deep would
Hold me until dawn.
This is a clip of the symphony. Enjoy the music!
May our spirits soar to heaven.
May we lift each other up and hold one another dear–
And may we rest well in peace.