The Rising

Each mote must float within its space
And every like to each its own must face
And You so being created as such
If longing and desiring is much
Must know and understand in detail
To stay the same yet want will surely fail
There must always be a growing and a reaching
For the risings only garnered by the breaching
Yet the soul that tethers itself to any idol
Will find itself a prisoner of that wile
For the expanding path will always lead away
From those whose choice in stagnate waters stay
But You who’ve learned to think in all directions
Will find the power that masters ALL reflections

Birth

All truth lays hidden in your mind
Be it bad or be it good – it is there
Conceiving itself as a seedling, forming
Until birth into the very existence of your life
And you perceiving it – judge it –
The very thing that you made
Without realizing that it was you
Who formed and created it
And I have noticed that most
Take credit for all they deem as good
But instead place blame for all they deem as bad
And in doing so – give all their power away

Dying Embers

I allowed myself to be changed by other people’s ideas of appropriateness, and I burned beneath their heavy opinions.

They did not glow brighter for my complicity.

Dying embers do nothing to fan the flames of greatness within anyone.

Forged by Love

Steel is formed in the heat of the flame.
But am I made of softer things than this?
Of gold perhaps, easily melted and adorned.

The heat of pain to strengthen or melt away the mettle!

What greater forging of beings there be – than Love?
Let me run straight at it – eyes set ablaze with courage,
And melt or stand in strength within the fray.