the light in my veins stretches out
to give you hope
soft whispers building up
my future bridges
Sleep of honour
The sun bleeding rays of hope
And our wilted spirits plunged with the frequent growth.
I sit and rest my head on her shoulder,
wondering about the vast universe,
Shimmering stars and the wisdom behind the glorified constellation.
Our bodies absorbing the rays
Like the arrows hit the bow
Difference being the rays are soft and silk in its constant flow.
Lilies dominating daisies
Sunflowers dressed golden dancing lazily.
Slowly with time,
my eyes welcoming the doze, all ambrosial
Ending the sight with mellow wind’s proposal.
Whenever people discuss writing there’s always a process. When I think about how I write, I realize I don’t really have one. I don’t make outlines or notes on ideas (as you can probably tell by my unconventional writing). I just acknowledge that I have an idea to write something and then I do.
I don’t like planning my stories. I feel like it takes away from my characters and tone. It no longer feels free. I like the idea that characters have untapped potential and personalities. There is nothing better than having a basic idea of who they are or where they come from and have it blossom into so much more.
When you make outlines of a story and then set out to writing, even the outline begins to change. Suddenly you become aware of who you’re writing and realize… maybe they won’t do what you once thought they would. And maybe that’s where random plot point characters are born. Those characters with no rhyme or reason in the story, but to push the plot forward in the direction you desired.
And I wonder sometimes… does that happen to God? Does He start out with us thinking “this is what I have planned for them”, but we have free will, and we do things that change the story. Maybe He still has the same plan laid out, but how we approach it is different.
When I think about it, really think about it… I find that some of the most random encounters with people that I’ve had has had the most long lasting effects on how I view my life. It’s the random encounters with nameless faces, people you don’t know and never will again, they matter. You matter.
a single rock skipping
across the Universe
causing ripples in time and space
setting off a chain reaction
that brought us here,
at this moment,
in this time
Your all wondering what "lapine" means- I know it. So I will just tell you what it means: Lapine is French for rabbit. What can be more comforting than fuzzy bunnies and one of the most beautiful langauges in the world?
The beauty of your words.
The beauty of your words
Reflects the shimmer
Of your inner self.
The gorgeous soul.
Who knows what your outer casing looks like?
Those who matter
Will only see your beauty.
And dazzle us all
With the beauty of your words.
And then they danced like they had met for the first time. His wrinkled hand reached for hers pulling her in like static. The song he chose was not slow, not fast, it was right, as right as the love he felt for her. All of the tragedy they had ever known left the room as sure as the sun rose that morning and there was no thought, just rhythm and touch. Life in that moment was worth living, not just because they were in love, in spite of it, because each of them had opened up their eyes ready to meet the day, one more time.
Reflections fade as sunlight wanes
Eve’ lays down her crown
And scarlet tears drip from your veins
Your life rests, brittle, on the ground
Wind’s whispers brush your autumn
One final dance takes stage
Fall, gathering your last remains
’Til Spring’s breath turns the page
Wabisabi and her eventual Spring <3
How It Shines!
Golden fields glint in silver moonlight.
Bronze wind chimes ring like tiny bells in the winds
That blow in from the glittering sea.
Shimmering drops of water float on the shining leaf
On its way to drop in the water.
Clusters of starlight reflect in the
Sparkling eyes of a little girl.
Whispers of laughter float upon the summer wind
From places far away.
In the silence of the gleaming night,
The girl's smile can be heard for mile's.
What magic they hold.
Sparks of color hold the attention
Of a young princess ruling her glossy kigdom
Of hills and forests
The beauty of her little place in the world
Is seen in the tears that run down her face,
Glistening in the light of night.
How it shines!
Take a look in a mirror, but before you do that...
Close your eyes and think nothing. There is nothing now. Existance is non-existant. Think back to the begining of time. Before there were people. Before there was anything. Absolutly nothing!
Now open your eyes and look in the mirror. Look into your own eyes and be amazed that you exist. That of all the people and things that have existed through the course of history, you are the one staring back through the mirror RIGHT NOW! Of all the thoughts being thought right now, you have the pleasure to think that of yourself and to read your own mind like no other person can.
You exist. I exist. We are thinking beings in a large group of thinking beings with everything to ourselves. The mind is anything. As far as you are concerned, it's anything that you want it to be. You are the center of a universe that is the mind, your mind. That is enough to want to keep existing. Existance is a miraculous posession that only your mind can extinguish.
The mystery of my own existance used to shock me all the time. I have suffered with depression and anxiety my whole life. But there were rare moments when my mind suprised me. I would literally find myself looking in the mirror, feeling dizzy, and not believing that it was possible that I existed. I just couldn't believe it. Your prompt reminded me of that feeling once again. This disbelief makes me feel so happy, in a way that I can hardly explain in these words.
Now I remember that there is no need to be sad, when the most beautiful thing to posses is the very thought that I exist.