Author Archives: Michaela

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About Michaela

I am a wanderer and a wonderer, like you are. I love our journey and to walk in the company of friends – to learn, experience, share, laugh, cry and above all I simply love this marvelous, magical, mysterious life. I have no plan (cannot believe I am saying this) and my only intention is to be truthful to myself and others.

One life

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There is one life , my life.
There is no other life.

All things which come to me, or appear to me came through this one life.
All I see, taste,touch,hear or smell is that which I created.
This world is a world of possibilities. This world knows no lack.
This world provides everything that is needed. This world is perfect, because that which created the world must be perfect.
Nothing perfect could create imperfection. The imperfection is only how I view the world.

I need a new pair of glasses because the old glasses are full of opinions, both my own and my peers. The opinions are formed through my own desires and through others beliefs – which are not mine. Beliefs which I have accepted through fear, though I know in my deepest place, there is nothing to fear.

I pray, I do not accept the world because of what men say even if they be 99 to 1. Rather let me accept only that which echoes in my heart. Let me have the faith to know, not only in words but really know- that which goes before me makes the crooked places straight. Why, because that which goes before me is that which I am.That which goes before me creates everything so perfectly how could it not create me so perfectly? It must have !

Amen

Credits: writing © justme; Image © CatrinPhoto; All rights reserved

Bliss

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“When nothing was needed and fulfillment was not known”

 

This quote is also available as a meditation

Credits: Quote © justme; Image © CatrinPhoto; All rights reserved.

 

This heart is not so lost

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I AM THAT BIRD
by justme

“I never saw a wild thing sorry for itself. A small bird will drop frozen dead from a bough without ever having felt sorry for itself “.
~ D.H. Lawrence

I am that bird that sat upon that tree
Looking all about of me.
I am that bird that stilled and died
And it’s true no tears, this bird has cried

Yet I this bird, still chose the tree
Though I will die, it still comforts me
This heart therefore is not so lost
It’s true I’ll die, but I still avoid the frost.

Even though we believe in truth

And accept we perhaps, have no proof

Except what agrees within our hearts

Still we are human, playing the human parts.

Like this bird someday we all will die

We can question and ask the reason why

There is nothing wrong for us to find our tree

To ask their protection and help to be.

When we shelter upon that place

And God looks gently upon our face

When we look at deaths own door

And human fight can fight, no more.

Lay your head upon your tree

Whisper softly, easy and gently

‘I am a bird that sits upon a tree
I love that you are here with me ‘.

The world of trees with a universal song

Will sing to the universe to which you belong

‘ This is our sister the world let roam,
treat her well, love her, then take her home ‘.

∞

Credit: poem © justme; Image; © CatrinPhoto; All rights reserve

These simple moments

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WHEN YOU AND I ARE ONE
by justme 

Once upon a deeper night in the land of hushabye
An angel met an angel and together they did cry.
They cried upon a perfect moment, but never would it come
They cried upon a stopping silence, that ne’re again would run

For moments come and moments go, that you and I, know true
Moments kept and moments lost, no moment, can we renew
For such things are written in our hearts, and shaped in tempered gold
They rise within an instant, they are held within our soul.

They travel with us from birth to death, their path it is not loud.
They never speak, they never shout, they ignore the maddened crowd
They held their time in camps of death at Chelmno and Sobibor
At the place called Thermopylae, they held a reeling roar.

At the feet of Ghandi they did fall, and Madiba held their hand.
Connolly stretchered to their song, Annie Moore, to a new land.
They echo at the French Bastille and when Lincoln honoured Ross
They were seated neath the Bohdi tree and upon a Roman cross.

They are that which we could miss so quick, they happen oh so fast
They never seem so important, we know they’ll never last.
Yet it is these moments, these simple moments, which are separate from mans time.
No fingers touch, no space can catch, this moment, called sublime.

They live the lakes,
They grow the fields,
They hold the moon, the stars, the sun.
They are the perfect moments, when you and I are one.∞

 

Credits: poem © justme; Image © CatrinPhoto; All rights reserved.

The dancer’s dance

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A dance qualified by fools, confirmed by scientific, intelligent creatures, by the majority sometimes, or by ‘common sense’. Common of the blinded, babbling, groping creature. Acclaimed by all except the silent fool, whose mantra holds only the words ‘ I know nothing,’ they dance with each other.

Yet they dance, the dancers dance.

Dance you on sweet children, distinguished dancers of a thickened heavy earth.
Dance you on, though you die upon the morow, your dying from the day that held your birth.
Bounce upon the strings that pull you here and too and sometimes slip you fro.
For the dance you dance, it is not yours, despite the pomp and charade of you who thinks they know.
The movement is not true, without the strings you cannot do, and so the illusion it simply grows and grows and grows.

With love from a dancer ∞

Credits: writing ©Justme; Image: ©CatrinPhoto; All rights reserved

You are our breath

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It is within the moments of dread, of fear, when everything is too much, when nothing is enough, when everything is wrong because of you, or so it seems. It is in such moments, you cannot see the stars, the sun is hidden and the sounds of silence are no more.
It is in such moments that life shouts out to you, ” my child, you are an instructor of the universe, you are that which makes the rivers roll and the grasses bow, you are our breath, you give us life”

For the stars they are always there, the sun it never leaves, it is you who is the silence, yet even the silence to know itself must check upon the noise, the greater noise, that silence must be understood, that the moon must have its turn, that the stars too must sleep.
Hold your moment and court it well, for as a moment come, so shall it pass and the view upon the alter shall differ upon the lifting of the fog.
Such is your life and so shall be mine.

Amen.

Credits: writing © justme; Image © CatrinPhoto; All rights reserved

Coming home

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..and I shall say upon the stranger, take off your coat, for you have arrived now to that so longed after place, the place impregnated within your heart. Take off your coat and lay it gently beside that warming, ember fire.
Then sit, rest a while, for your journey has been long and longer still, your feet have held your hearts true intent, yet at times you dragged an Island upon your back, only to find a mountain.  
Silent now, rest for now, my good and perfect guest. Rest a while, lay your head upon my shoulder, remember them, the special ones, think of them, the now silent ones. Rest now, it is not just you, for the sun grows weary too, the moon falls dark and quieter still, the stars fight no more.
Lay your head upon my shoulder, let your face be warmed by the glow of the throbbing, searing coals, for I am here, I am, is here and I shall rock you carefully, gently, silently asleep.
Oh troubled one, lay your troubles to the door, cry silently, but..perfectly, perfectly….
shhh 
Credits: writing © justme; Image © CatrinPhoto; All rights reserved

I, that quiet thing

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The reason why your awakening seems curious is because you are dreaming.

……….and within your dream, I am there.. that silent thing, that thing just out of reach. That which you have not named, for you cannot dwell long enough to consider I, that quiet thing, that silent thing, that thing just beyond your touch, yet not your feel, for you feel me so, that silent thought, that knowing thing, that quiet, always thing.
Dream on oh innocent, for I share your other dream, your silent, quiet, always dream, always dream, always a quiet, silent, always dream….and some day I promise you, you shall, dream no more………shhh…

 

Credit: writing © justme; Image © CatrinPhoto; All rights reserved

Within the centre of time

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TIME STAND STILL
by justme

 

Spin my friend the wheel of time.

Spin it fast and free and true.

Lay you not upon its rim, lest time drags you through,

The rip and free of wheel, of life, of sickening nausea

Rest you instead within the centre of time.

Be you the one who looks upon, rather than the one who spins, and throws and dies.

No mans time is the same; therefore time is but a relativity -of me, of you.

Let no man steal my time. Let not your time run free.

I rest upon the centre and look upon time as a passing friend

For me time can stand still, and still and stop.

For in the centre, the earth did draw to close, the stars and sun hold not dead,

Yet still, the flowers sway not with vigour, but lean and lift like dancing ballerina upon a pedestal

Of life, of love, for you and me.

The rivers too hold agape and wait with beckoned breath, to catch a raindrop then another

Just to make a pond.

The birds they fan their feathered wings like taunting matadors,

they dare the bull of wind to lift them high,

It steps, not drives.

The clouds within the sky hold their form as if for a million years.

As the rain it drops as in single tailored tears.

Come with me and sit upon this crucible of light

Look with me and hold each other for a thousand lives

Rest now my queen and king of life, close thy eyes.

For here is the place for you to enter

to find the way

Take not a lifetime, just close thine eyes

Today.

∞

Credits: poem © justme; Image © CatrinPhoto; All rights reserved

From a soul that must

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OUR FATHER
by justme

Our father where are you? Who are you ? Who am I?
I have spat words and words, added opinion until I cry.
I have pursued things and people, selfish, imaginary wealth.
I have believed I was the orchestrator,
the giver and taker of health.
I have ignored the call and fall from birth to tomb
Whoever, whatever you are?
I fall silent.
I have ran out of room!

Floating ember fairy lights pin up the sky

While, shooting falling teardrops, break up and cry

to spread across a black hallowed darkness of empty space

And flash a vast peaceful picture,through almighty grace.

Tiny human, looks on, as a slight, delicate, speck of dust

yet releases a powerful silent whisper, from a soul that must,

Find it’s place within this vastness of all things unknown,

Just a human and this thing called universe, innocently, quietly, all alone.

She falls silent

and gently, beautifully, she slips home.

∞

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Credits:poem-prayer©justme; Image©CatrinPhoto; All rights reserved;