I do not know !

How important are we? The small, the tiny, that which is minuscule among things. Like pebbles on a beach, a never ending beach of thoughts, we grasp and grope, we long attachment, the very thing we claim to abhor, we despise.

Many billion stars light the universe, much larger than I, yet they do not shout or roar or fear, they just are.
They light the heavens that I might see, that I might dream, a dream of large, a dream of forever.

How dare you ask what the people think of you, how selfish are you who long to shield your ignorance, while you proclaim the ignorance of others.

Lay yourself upon the cross of life and proclaim to all, I do not know! I do not know!

Therefore how can I ever entertain fear, for fear like confidence is like the sand that cover the pebbles, a grimy, tiny, fallible friend, as am I.
I know not who you are and you know not to whom you listen, therefore be glad that I can listen and that I am here and so therefore, you must be here, too! ∞

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

Canvas of spirit

..and still the man continues in the throes of ignorance….the playground littered with forgotten potentials, blowing gently, dragging and grinding the surface of hope…. still the beholder, beholds… then time slows and slows and stops… within this moment the beholder intervenes and the canvas not of earth or wind but of spirit and memory, plays, displays, the forgotten moments of time, of man, of silence, of silly moments, once laughed, once passed, then stored and ignored… yet kept, once lost, then felt… mans own selfmade cross…

The angels seeing the beholder intervene, lift their veil, to the astonishment of man and that which was once so flippantly beheld, the spirit kneels and to mother and brother and friend bids itself farewell, in silence …adieu, adieu, adieu as the world watches the playground litter blow…..

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

The baggage carrier

We through gathering baggage from the time we first ‘arrived’ on this plane of existence, have gathered information, have followed example and learned habit. This invariably leads to our ‘human nature’. Although we cannot always see it we have a starting point which is based on what we believe to be absolutely true. Through this belief we assume for something to be correct it has to operate in a certain manner, we egotistically believe we know how for example, an enlightened individual should behave,and cannot comprehend whenever any individual does not seem to ‘live up’ to our understanding. We convince ourselves that we have open minds, but it is us, the baggage carrier, who is the convincer, it is us who have created a false starting point.

If one truly wants to learn, then we must be of quiet mind and be willing to sit with the tax collector and protect the prostitute, with the understanding. I have come to this world and I do not know where I am. I will not accept everything that is said whether that be by a sage, a traitor or a tormentor. I will through listening, beginning with knowing nothing,watch and ‘feel’ for the voice that says ‘I and the father are one and the same’. Through this experience we can perhaps connect with the real truth,which then we will never forget. When we have something that we never forget we will never lose it, no matter how many times we return to the baggage carrier.

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

The rock

I am that ‘rock’ that amazing creature named, yet as a rock, I knew no name, I held no time, I held no place.
Then the creature came, it held me as in photography, it cut and claimed my boundaries, it coloured me and wrapped a chain to hold my heart, it suffocated me.
Yet this chain, it has both ends and although one end contracts upon my skin, the other, attaches to the mind and soul of that creature, it weighed heavy upon that heart, it weighs heavy upon my heart, when first they named me, when first they chained their minds.
We the things of freedom, we the indescribable, we the timeless….
It bound us then, this creatures thing…
It bound us then….

It still does

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

Ord/ Words

Words, that strange expression attributed to groupings of letters, conjured, gathered, held, to form our ideas, each word lofted and championed as only of its own essence, yet tainted, turned and taunted by our own attachment.

Letters of communication, gathered under the lie of non affiliation, acclaimed as singular of meaning and affect, yet practised with the bluntness of a carving knife and the lightness of custard.

We the arbitrators uphold the system, deny the invasion and post the intricate.

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


When you dip into that place of peace, you know it. It is through this knowing that faith arises. Faith is just another word. Its meaning is different for everyone.

When you can dwell even for a moment in that higher place you know this is were you belong, because it feels perfect. The faith part is just you remembering the perfectness of this higher consciousness when you walk the everyday life.

You have a ‘faith’ of something perfect and you are part of that.

It is why you are here and you do not know it. You are here because of a memory you once had. That memory was a memory of perfection that you are a part of.This memory or ‘grace’ is the catalyst for faith.

Everything else is just words.

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


“Within any given moment is hidden the pure potentiality of grace. Within any arising of grace lies the potentiality of perfect stillness. Within the omnipotence of stillness lies the potentiality of truth, all held within the perfect moment.
Every moment therefore must carry truth and therefore no moment is ever lost except to the idea of moment itself.”
Credit: Writing: © justme; Image © CatrinPhoto


The leaf will land just exactly where it was meant to land.

May you float with the wind, both high and low, may the wind always be on your back. May the road rise up to meet you and may God hold you in the palm of his hand until we meet again. May love recognise you and may you recognise love when it knocks upon your door. May you grasp it and hold it as you held it before, as a friend once distanced,once upon a time love lost you but as it lost you, so shall it find you. For it’s will is undeterred and it’s resilience unending.

May your dreams be dreams of what once you seen and once you were and may you fall asleep to the sound of the promises of tomorrow and the loving memories of yesterday, for they were not memories created by a searching soul but memories founded upon the real, the memories of a forgotten tomorrow and the promises of a child born to fulfil its destiny.
A destiny you once laid before the alter of life and swore to fulfill. You my child are the dream and the dreamer. 

Credits: Writing © justme; Image: © CatrinPhoto;


The mist that drifts away at dawn, leaving but dew in the fields, shall rise and gather into a cloud and then fall down in rain.

And not unlike the mist have I been.

This quote is also available as an justpoems Folding Card. Enjoy

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

You told me so

There is only one world. That is your world. No one can see as you see. Do you know if everybody sees as you see? When you see colours does everyone see the same colour as you ? When you see the colour purple does everybody see purple as you see purple ? How do you know ? 

Let me tell you why.

You are in a dream. There is only you in the dream and everything in the dream you created. It is not who you are , you are in a dream. The things that are in your world, you created them. There is nobody else but you in the dream.
Once upon a time and yet there was no time, you came to me and told me to come to you and wake you up. Now you dont remember me yet you know me. I seem familiar. All the things you have done you have done so you can sleep but you know you must not sleep too long. You have many more of me coming , you told me so.

 They will come so you might have life. You told me so.

Credits: writng © justme; Image @ CatrinPhoto; All rights reserved