Mysteries of the Present.

Like the little sorrows,
That flood the tiniest of cracks...

sipping in incessantly...

The fleeting memories of happy times...

Like mirages that clouds or vision

Everyday spent loosing it to the winds.

The tune of soft music,

the rhythm of a lax tap.

A wall propped up before us,

relentless soft whistle of the wind,

the cold of the night,

silent whispers of the stars above,

keenly watching the aches of ages,

The moan of the land beneath,

as fresh dew melts into nothingness..

The soft patter of raindrops,

The sculptor knows the secret,

the master tapestry of every inch of our lives,

Isn't God wonderful?

Behold the gracefulness of a deer,

The slimy taste of pain,

each and everyday we breath,

others take their last,

Isn't it a MUST to say thank you.

Then came love,

before that,there was hate,

then a little voice in us, nudges us,

to the epitomes of unending abyss...

Doomed is he, who grips ego to submission

I write much with a pen,

I speak less with my lips,

Read the face and feel the temperament.

The red of the roses,

the joy of the heart that loves,

life gives us both sides of a coin,

Today we are distressed,

not by our own doing,

but by the sentimental core of our existence,

I miss the times of the old,

where norms prescribed the paths,

to be called an elder is sacred,

for this I write with a weeping heart,

a mindless rhetoric you may say,

but it's me Loughran.

I smell Christmas around the corner. It comes with many blessings!

Gerry.

Comments

Learning the ropes.

A reset is something that hits you when you least expect it. Just like sickness, it knocks at your door at odd hours, bringing with it a period of great adjustments and shifts. A bit of a background story, a couple of weeks ago, I was reading an anecdote by Norman Vincent Peale (the father of positive thinking) where the author posits that one should change their thoughts if they wish to change the world. This got me thinking; all those instances where I have seen people on the streets or in restaurants in seemingly boisterous conversations and showing broad smiles unassumingly made me think that they might be living life happier than mine. I assumed that they were happier than me or even smarter than me. Instances are rife where we sit in our little apartments imagining what it would be like to be someone else. That feeling that we often behold that everyone around you seems to be doing better than you, or the one where we feel that piles upon piles of decks are stack...

He Remembers.

He’d write you this letter, but he knows, the good ol’ days are gone. blame the vagaries of life. The bits that used to make your heart fluster; the butterflies in your stomach? This are words, poured into this piece, to remember a graceful person, to honor a time that made his world a place to relish. Truth be said, weathering this time is daunting and he got no idea how it is going to be. He’s held onto hope; he knows too well of it’s tingling taste in his mouth. He’s beheld countless nights of little to no sleep and unsettled sighs and heaves, oh the world that was! The song titled For You by John Denver bellows through the dark headphones tightly holding his sanity together, He can’t help but feel every second and minute pass by so slowly. That is a song he would be singing in the shower with an upbeat mood, relishing the gifts of life. It’s a heavy one this bit, He doesn’t know if his shoulders can hold onto the weight really. He is scared, not that the world’s turned colder...

The Psychology Of Color.

I came across this collection of colors and its psychological meaning and found great references that I can relate with. " Mere color, unspoiled by meaning, and unallied with definite form, can speak to the soul in a thousand different ways. - Oscar Wilde . " Picture Courtesy of inspirationalfeed.com Have a wonderful weekend up ahead! Gerry

Random Stirrings of The Mind.

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