The Hour Come At Last

We live in dark times again.

Once again, we took the light and comfort for granted, wrecked ill-will, sowed despair, and made short-sighted gains in exchange for crushed spirits.

Convictions are weakened. Ignorance extolled as virtues. Liars and cheaters emboldened. A cacophony of bitter voices sell the mistaken notion that all this is nothing but a game and we should all learn to play it.

Yet again, we must pay the price.

The hour of the rough beast has come. The primordial ocean will cleanse the land. The volcanic flames will burn stronger than anyone's desire. All will be engulfed in a fury greater than everyone's wounded pride.

Then, just as promised, the light will shine through.

Yet again, a rebirth of ideas. An enlightenment of the mind. A return to our better nature. The bitter voices will be drowned out, and all that will be left is the pure sound of time marching on.

Tempering the Soul

The grass is not greener on the other side, despite how it might seem. All of us share in the glory, and partake in the misery, that life has to offer. 

It is easy to be blinded. To want something, then realize one cannot have it, and finally, force the self to believe in the lie that our hate can be stronger than love.

But when we temper our soul, we realize that we always want something that feels true and feels good, and whatever it was we desired to begin with but thought we could not have, was ultimately, simply a birthright innate in all of us.

A tempered soul knows that hatred has many forms, but that true love has only one. And while different forms lead to different impressions which can cloud our vision, the truth is that the sun shines and the rain falls for the grass to grow green no matter on which side of the fence.

Sobering

Amid the dizzying glitz and dazzling golden glitter, a cool, blanketing force descended onto the room. The oft ignored reality struck and was laid bare for all to see. It was cold and crystal clear and all senses in the space it channeled into were leveled. All minds, sobered. All hearts, beating yet still.

Calibration, Regulation

Be at peace. Find the harmony. Let the blues ring out. Let the chorus chant its joyful ode. Slowly but surely, the night breeze blends with the dawn. Be calm. Be still. Let the motions of the atmosphere find its center. Then, make your move once again.

The World Is Too Beautiful

The world is too beautiful for people. 

If only we could see its generous beauty and acknowledge the abundance of natural grace given to us for all our lifetimes.

If only we can be honest for a second. Accept our being flawed. Understand our mistakes. If only we could turn the lens on ourselves instead. 

Then, maybe, we make ourselves worthy of this world here for eternity.

The world's beauty is eternal and true. Ours is borrowed, like eternal youth borrowed from a shamefully hidden cursed portrait, the image on which ages miserably and reflects daily a constantly rotting soul.

The world is too beautiful for people. It does not need to be saved. It lives on. 

Our time is up.

Feel The Wind Love

The wind of love, its force strong, blew up mightily, and with a tender passion, eased the heartaches of its time. 

And all who saw, knew.

The wind of love revealed itself in a melody so clear. It echoed with a voice which spoke with purity. There was stillness in its presence.

Yet, all who heard, felt moved.

The End Of It All

In the end, there was nothingness. 

Everything had resolved. 

All loose threads were tied neatly. 

The story was rightly concluded.

The word "never" can finally be uttered. 

Never would anything ever matter again. 

And peace was gained at last.