Thirst unquenched, we light the flame and dance through flickered nights; toes beating through the soil--sick--oblivious in lust.

I sip from the chalice of
the earth's condition,
wise with poison, drunken
of the salts of passion come before.

Sweetness, stolen from
the branch
entrenches senses,
wipes the slate with
bitter berry blossoms,
ripening still
deep in my
rumbling tummy.

The sour sting of
acid, then
the tartness, yearning
to be sweet,
wtih syrupy
abandon, I
can die
a restless beast.

Take a breath. Look around. As we hurtle toward death, there's life to be found.

“Our work is to make ourselves visible in the world. This is the soul’s individual journey, and the soul would much rather fail at its own life than succeed at someone else’s.”
— David Whyte from Crossing the Unknown Sea: Work as a Pilgrimage of Identity


“Let the beauty that we love be what we do. There are hundreds of ways to kneel and kiss the ground.”

— Rumi


I got these quotes from GinaMazza.com, and I wanted to keep it because it is so inspiring!

http://www.ginamazza.com/index.htm

The stars, 'n their eyes

...and all the stars, tucked away in their own tiny skies,
pulled the covers up over their heads
and closed their eyes...and Mother Moon sighed.