Filled with perfect

FOR ONCE THERE WAS A PERFECT TIME
By justme 

For once there was a perfect time, filled with perfect, in perfect rhyme.
The laze of man, of thing and things and all the emptiness that human brings
Met with perfect, at the door, dropped it’s bag and cried no more.
Yet human man he soon forgot, built his castle, learned to rot.
Forgot that perfect, held his hand, tolled the roads, ploughed the land.

Then one day when man was old, a moment touched, a silence hold.
Of a perfect day, not noticed then, cared then less, cared not again.
It’s that call that calls him now.
Frets the beads, upon his brow.

For….
…….perfect came and perfect went
A perfect moment, no man has spent
For perfect is as perfect be, perfect touch, as perfect see.
Yes perfect called, this man missed thee
For perfect shouts, so silently.

Perfect kissed with perfect breath
Then perfect looked,
Then perfect,

left.∞

Read by the author

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

 

How fortunate are we

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How fortunate-cover

Quote gelbHow fortunate are we, how fortunate are we…

Timeless creations, never created, breathing, yet never hold a breath, singing our way, dancing our way, to nowhere but a place to be

…just to be

Surrender to the moment

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Just stop

The wind picks up the leaf

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quotation rotThe wind picks up the leaf along the way, sometimes the experience is turbulent, furious and violent, yet the same wind can lift the same leaf and gently, softly, kindly, lead it on a dreamy dance, of love.
Blame not the wind, fault not the leaf, for everything is as it should be and the leaf will land exactly as to is its destiny, which was an idea, once whispered gently to the wind and set forth, once formed and sewn with sinew through the vibrating yet withering veins of the little leaf.

Shout as you might but your shouts are not louder than the wind. Be moralistic then but still your morals smash and crash upon the rocks of illusion, maybe not this day. Shock as you try, yours are as a resemblance of a spark fighting against a crackling storm. Preach as the teacher and your elegant quill shall someday be recalled upon by its fated owner, though that will be upon a darker, restless hour.

Many have eyes but few can see.

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

These simple moments

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.

From a soul that must

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.

Read by the author

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

Opposites must end

…and yet there is a moment, recalled at least once, by all, yet neglected within its time. A once upon a time moment, it’s fairy tale embedded drip, molten and attached anonymously upon our minds, stealthily impressed, secretly within our hearts.
The perfect moment when the guard was dropped, the care transcended, the need to explain left at doorway of opposites and in this moment, this beautiful perfect moment, we are reborn and will forever live again.

It is then having experienced our perfect moment, we understand the inexorable opposites are that whose existence must come to end.

Amen.  ∞

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

Full of overflowing love…

BEAUTY OR LOVE

by justme

Who can ever express beauty or love?
Has any man the ability to withhold?
Oh, to see this simple thing

And to understand it’s not we who sing
Ride the train of life my love
End the tapestry of  pain and strife you wove

You are but the beholder not the giver of such
Only God and the invisible can give so much.
Understand no ability have you to withhold

Rain it falls on the young and old.
In the deepest depths of who you are
Gold and frankincense build a tailored tower
How or when or what you think you give
The giver is and only the giver gives

Now is full of overflowing love
Of bursting hearts and flirting doves
While time is still and love complete.

I sit in silence at the masters feet.

And you do well to watch your thought
May God just give, for you my friend, cannot. ∞

A video version of the poem “Beauty or Love” can be found here
A meditation on the quote ” A simple thing” can be found here

Credit: poem © 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 dream of life

THE DREAM OF LIFE
by justme

My dream is the dream of life
Found in death, freed by death
A sorrowful thing am I.
I sit upon the tree alone, it’s branches tremble not, for it is I who shivers
My shaking wakes the earth, no other birds will sit with me, the onlooker, the gazer of things.
My song the song of my forefathers, breathes life, calls death, a waiting thing am I
Alone, so very alone.
Yet to my silent tune the clouds they dance, they cry, they move.
To my silent dance we hold each other and smile and weep for a lost tomorrow
Somewhere within the space between the stars, held within the moment is my place.
A perfect place, a quiet place, where I belong
where I am real   

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