Practical Deeds of Done

The Strangeness of Destiny,

brought a gentle hand.

Fate births Delivery,

require or purpose?

Deep or Sorted

the nature of encounter,

is difficult.

Desire

A walk on a high wire,

tension in balance.

A Lyre!!

As a desired hymn,

but the strength of found,

in a musical fare,

may have only been.

The Music Played

A piece I seem to know,

the Tune so Old,

an Ancient Introduction,

to what seems oddly,

so bold.

a plan

Should the proof be in the spirit,

or the writing in hand,

Ink leaves the Instance,

freshness with a stand.

To be an open invitation,

to experience a different lore,

I make strides towards interest,

to concrete my intentions.

To further 'Thoughts' mounting,

questions I bare.

A home in distant views,

the memory,

brings me tears.

I long for all the comfort,

nothing wrong was there.

The Love of Such,

I stare!!

The desperate Minds which keep,

and plant with seeds that sweep,

belief of what's not theirs,

has caused despair with age.

The formality of my conscience mind,

speaks with 'Thought Design.'

To etch a sketch,

a canvas of my being,

a portrait to be sorted.

To fetch a mortal existence,

and learn to live,

Resistance.

The missing action labors,

the breath of which is smothered,

may have only been.

I 'Look' into the deepest wells,

to find the springs of hope,

the babbling brook streams to rivers,

that just don't seem to flow.

The Waterfalls that Fell

The Pools in which I paddle,

no prevailing wind,

to calm the plight,

the drought of all that's been.

To Soak-In what was,

to bathe in my begin,

no lacking instruments,

I trumpet horns from then.

A distant place,

sadness was not known,

I accept this life,

this issuance of such,

to ascend as only One.

A miss was worth the 'Chance' of hit,

in the wilds of,

romance.

To value the worth of what was,

is the treasure I feel in what is,

to take a stab, or, make a play,

too motivate yourself to say,

what You believe,

not what you're told cannot be.

Delivers a brand new day

In an active appeal to heal,

not hang your head in dread,

or you may loose your way.

The 'Sight' of not what is or maybe right,

but what holds the promise,

of an even older 'Time.'

I know of a beautiful life

I was, I am, I will be again,

in amazement of all this then.

To prosper in an excitement,

a literal delivery of,

my last time,

 felt so long ago.

Now I Share Found:

my Life Path Number,

Nine,

my Destiny Path Number,

Eleven,
my Birthday Number,
Eleven

and My Personality Number,

Twenty-Two.

A release to be true,

not due.

~

Courtesy of: 

http://www.numerologyarts.com/free_numerology/

The Dawn of Reason: Weave !!

 

The level of a day,

is the balance that is made,

when a weighted approach,

is considered as a measurement,

not a torch!

In the depths of this reveal,

do not ignore,

Wrongs as Rites.

Dismissing Actions as correct,

due to desire of an equal outcome,

will only delivery more of the same.

In every grain of sand I see a beach,

exampling the Oceans Nature,

Wave!!

Tides do surge,

rising water pressures Dikes,

the impending 'Sees' approach,

fighting futile,

to succumb, certain death.

In Sted,

I continue in my begin,

to heal not win.

A Stance To Post

The Religion War Fares,

Old,

too despair.

Now,

Spiritual makes Cents.

Penny's on the Dollar,

it is Added-as-Squalor!

Belief makes Know Mention,

to addition.

Prevented,

'cause Wealth of the Mind,

is Singular,

of Fined!

A Balance,

to guide the innocence,

will hide,

not as a disguise,

but to protect,

You-from-Fear!

Speech is not Free!!

When the Cost,

is so Found,

an isolated existence & disagree,

is

Resistance.

Reason is Such,

to introduce what is known,

to the mapping,

of

Self.

In Discovery,

of found.

A Knew Zone

Is it a Crime,

considered treason,

to question or freeze in,

the stated?

Not Pleasing,

of All-that-You-Bleed-Inn.

The destination of gatherings,

an offer to ramblings,

that Sentence-of-Strife,

not Liberate,

the blind.

"To Continue"

With Interpretation,

a story,

re-written,

isn't it,

History and Time,

re-defined?

As Liberty is made a Prison,

I search for the choice,

to Hear,

what is buried,

from Eyes that won't Lie.

The Chill-of-Original,

not altered,

just spoke,

with Tone and Inflection,

to communicate Well,

not Sicken to listen,

a story.

A Tell

Answer presents the Question,

of Power,

to guide not make cower.

The Interest,

in 'Why' Our Minds,

liken Reason,

to Equal-A-Sum,

to being taught,

not suffer treason.

As the World does displace,

a Prophecy takin' place,

a 'Word' for 'Word' Act,

to Sum-it's-Exact.

Precision to Sight,

from Centuries back,

an impossible tact,

to confuse or react,

with anything but respect,

to what I do love,

'The Verse'

not a shove!!

Namaste!!