Finding Home

When all is calm and still, devoid of even the song of the winds, when the leaves of trees are mute, I breathe in, breathe deep, quiet, stillness, peace, it is then that my soul sings... Singing, evoking a distant memory Of a place we might have been... Was it a childhood dream? lived as if real? Was it a place of sand, where waves came rushing in? Was it high on top the cityscape where clouds kissed our weary cheeks? Where was it? My memory evades... And then it dawns like that of an earnest sun breaking through the darkest dark of night, It wasn't anywhere else, It was the clear as day evoking life truth... It was a fierce pull of belonging, a finally finding oneself, It was a wondrous, beautiful certainty A final finding of home, that is you... Photo credit: Joy Villahermosa

Rain falling like the story of my life ,in droplets, in cascading downpour, with occasional whispers of a lonesome wind pulling me into a deep slumber of rest and respite And then it thunders on,the sky, and the rain,endless torrents of tears seeping into every crack, every break of my soul, and then it happens-- night falls. It finally ceases the thunder and the rain. All is silent save for the moon beckoning me to wake, rousing my soul from dreary sleep .And then I do. And this is when lightning strikes again...

I miss us. Walking down the streets of crooked lines Hand in hand Under the bright moonlight and hazy lamp posts Talking for hours On end like there was no tomorrow Like nothing else matters only the two of us And the dreams we had were promises of a paradise that eluded us And that one brief glorious moment in the most mundane of circumstances, I knew It was going to be you. You were the one. So, yes. I miss us. I miss the possibilities then the anticipation of a life beyond amazing... They say we enter into this thing with blinders for eyes and earplugs for hearing. Now that we are stripped off of everything... What is left? Love? What does that even mean? So, yes, I miss us. The notion of us. The concept of us. The excitement that was us. The exhilaration that was us. The joy that was us. I miss being so sure that it was you. That it is still you. To forgive... Forgive me. Forgive you. Forgive everybody else. Forgive the world. Fo

At one point or another, we come to a fork in the road. Go left? Go right? Or pause for a while. You've been carrying all this baggage that your back has been strained and you have no other choice except to lay them down because if you don't, it will break. You will break. And when you look at the road ahead, you simply cannot move. For all those years that you've been taking charge, being bull-headed, controlling everything willing everything to go your way, you are finally tired. Your knees buckle, they fail you when you try to stand up. With all the noise, humdrum and chaos of the world you have built around yourself, your senses finally reach their limit and disintegrate. At this junction you call out for help. Anything or anyone to pull you out or at least help you climb out of the deep deep well you fell into. You seek comfort, respite, solace. Solace in friendship and family. Where boundaries of space, place or time do not matter. You pick up where you left off. J

To find what is lost To rekindle embers dying To remind oneself of one's calling To seek one's purpose To know where to go when the tides come and wash away your house of sand To look to the heavens the stars, the moon even the blinding sun just to find answers to satisfy the inquiries of your spirit To tirelessly ask Why? and How? as in How to make amends? How to begin again? To break the shell that encloses your understanding To allow yourself to feel the pain of that shell breaking To deny, to give in to anger To bargain with God with whoever To allow yourself the brief comfort of weeping Then to finally accept,  let things be How it was and is now To remember what was forgotten To regain strength from the worst of infirmities To realize there is no other way to relieve oneself of burden but to simply lay down the cross fall on your knees and return ho

We all carry emotional baggage--past mistakes, regrets unending, unwise choices, decisions that carry us to the easier or more difficult road to recovery. And the only way to untangle ourselves from this is to forgive. Forgive ourselves, forgive people, forgive the situation, forgive time, forgive the Universe. Pamela Spiro-Wagner has so strongly and beautifully expressed the true meaning of what it is to forgive... To Forgive by Pamela Spiro-Wagner To Forgive Is... To begin and there is so much to forgive: for one, your parents, one and two, out of whose dim haphazard coupling you sprang forth roaring, indignantly alive. For this, whatever else followed, innocent and guilty, forgive them. If it is day, forgive the sun its white radiance blinding the eye; forgive also the moon for dragging the tides, for her secrets, her half heart of darkness; whatever the season, forgive it its various assaults-- floods, gales, storms of ice-- and forgive its changing; f

"Your pain is the breaking of your shell that encloses your understanding." -Khalil Gibran-  It is altogether painful and awakening. The truth does come out sooner or later. And when it does it does two things-- pierce you like a sword that has no ending and sets you free. You then realize how your gut instinct is your best friend. And as best friends go, won't always say what you want to hear but will tell you the hard truth. But what is left to be done when the script has been written and the parts have been played? For you know in your heart at that particular time in your life, you were merely hanging on to survive. You were fighting for what's yours. You were fighting for what you believed to be true. And in this instinct for survival, you chose to be blind to the clouds of doubt that hovered ahead. When regrets come, it goes both ways. What if I did this? What if I didn't do this? Fear envelopes you. Fear of the unknown. And the need to control what ha