Paw Prints from Heaven

Though you can't see me, I am always around...
Though you can't hear me, I am speaking to you...
Though you can't touch me, I am reaching for you...
The images you see, but cannot explain...
The energy you feel, but cannot see...
The love that you feel, when thinking of me...
My presence you feel, when walking outside...
My hugs remembered, never let go...
My heart that I gave you, that you now wear...
The things you are seeing, that no one can explain...
And the things that you hear, with no one around...
These gifts that I give you, are my Paw Prints from Heaven.

- Romeo

Grieving a Soulmate: The Love Story Behind "Till Death Do Us Part"

"Grieving a Soulmate" is unlike any book you've ever read, even though the story is universal. It's about the death of a lover. This book takes on a difficult and very personal topic with courage, out-of-the-box thinking, and deep love. Ranging from the practical to the emotional - and frequently blending the two - Orfali's style of writing makes a difficult topic easier to manage. He writes in an easy style that is analytical, yet speaks from the heart. The content is thought-provoking, unique and original. It's your gentle and informed guide to the deep grieving that accompanies the death of a soulmate.

This book should help you quickly overcome the red-hot pain of grief. It also tells you how to reconstruct your life, find meaning, and deal with the big existential issues from a secular perspective. It's a survival guide for the last stages in a soulmate relationship. Above all, however, "Grieving a Soulmate" is a love story.

"Grieving a Soulmate" by Robert Orfali is available in paperback and e-book from Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Apple, and others.

ISBN-13: 978-1936400669
Paperback list price: $14.95
E-book list price: $ 6.99
Book's website: GrievingaSoulmate

Bio: Robert Orfali and his soulmate of thirty years, Jeri, were both in the computer software field in the early days of Silicon Valley. They co-authored three best-selling software books and went together on several world tours to promote their technology. Jeri was diagnosed with ovarian cancer, in 1999, shortly after they moved to Hawaii. Jeri and Robert spent the next 10 years fighting Jeri's cancer and learning how to live with it. Jeri even learned how to surf during her chemo years. She went from "Silicon Valley Executive Woman of the Year" to "Waikiki Surfer Chick." Jeri received one of the most moving surfer funerals ever. Her ashes are in the ocean at Waikiki.

Trailer by Vickie of VickiesBusinessServicesdotcom

Songbird

High above in the trees.
Nestled among the leaves.
The songbird sings.
Her voice is heard on the breeze.
Sweet melodies floating across the seas.
The songbird sings of love, joy, and sweet romance.
A forever lover’s slow dance.
Whether at night or break of dawn.
Like a fairy with a magic wand.
Her voice can be heard across the skies.
This songbird so fair.
Touching the hearts and souls of lovers everywhere.

by Lamar Cole.

Hope

Hoping for peace on Earth;
Wishing upon shooting stars;
Taking chances to make things right;
Helping others, and listening well;
Making problems disappear;
Giving heart in all we do;
To give love, and never take;
Will give us hope; and one day peace.

by Abegail Samson

Feather of the Heart

I take a feather from my heart and I want you to take it with you

Then I will know forever more that you will always carry my love, 

deep inside your heart 

May this feather of my heart always illuminate and help you to rise 

I pray that on the wings of our love our hearts will be guided, 

so that our spirits are one 

When we are apart, I will try to be strong 

When I wish to see your face, I close my eyes, and you appear 

I hear the words you speak and placed inside my heart; 

That my heart will be the greatest feather you could ever earn. 

My heart is in gentle touch of your hands, like a feather; 

as you speak, you call me your loving heart 

I am anxious for us to be together once again, my great love 

I will comfort your heart by placing my hand over it 

For it is within your heart that I will always call home 

I take a feather from my heart and I want you to take it with you 

By taking this feather from my heart, 

our spirits will never be apart, 

for I will always be with you 

For all eternity. 

 by Rollo West 

Lullaby Across the Plains

Fears ensnared within the winter drifts along the harden ground
One lone ember stares off yearning for heaven brothers 
As I watch its simple battle for survival from dust of ashes gray
To tombs that lie stone in forever twilight slumbers

In my sleepy hollow head like a saddened tune on flute play
I hear further, farther days ahead and think them some great enemy
But, louder are the years which shall follow as if it’s greater dread
So I return to thoughts outward of the plains lullaby instead

Outside the winds lost are moaning singing a sacred song
Warning, crawling like shadows long, carry astral visions rolling in
Caught like prey dancing in the trees by guardian dream catchers
Shamans of the din, their medicine cleansing, sweeping away village sin

The ember grows brighter as I feel the warmth on my Ojibwe people all around
Sounds of the old man elder still breathing, rhythms of the ceremonial drum
Hearst beating over silence of the coming whites waiting to steal away the clouds
And their cold tracks of steel lying like death dividing up the rivers run

Still I listen, to the plains that speak in nightless lullabies
So the cricket’s lie dormant the buffalo’s wintry song is a bolder snore
Like clouds upon the desert floor, beneath the watchful eye of the snowy goddess moon
Ghosts of warriors galloping across the plains looking for their home

So, I call out whispers to them “here we are” adding to the Algonquin tune
Smiling with eyes closing, I watch the ember stronger glowing hearth
Empowered by life, the gift of the Great Spirit, mountain coyote serenading love of light
And mother lays her hand across the plains tucking in all her children of this Earth

With this I sleep sounder for awhile longer
Although, knowing all things must end with death
But, the spirit will live on and on
Across the plains in its lullabying song, like the winter's breath

by Micheal Smith 

"Nunna Dual Tsuny"

wild roses now grow
as living epitaphs on
"the trail where they cried"

by Deborah Burch

THE LAST STAND

Where have all my people gone, the Navaho, Lakota, and the Sue.
Smothered beneath the white man blanket,
Chocking for a breath of airs life's sustaining oxygen.
The beating heart of native drums, are stilled frozen,
In the middle of it's rhythmic thumping, no pulses echo,
Can be heard on the open plain.
The weeping women kneel on sacred ground, shedding
A river of bloods tears, burning a permanent scare across,
A baron landscape.
Death's black raven shields itself, under it's crimson soaked wing,
Against shames immoral injustice. 
Greed's unsatisfiable hunger for land and riches fuels lusts desire,
Behold exterminations nay holocaust of the native inhabitance,
  Nothing remains alive except ignorance blackened shadow.
How much blood can mother earth be forced to drink before,
She drowns herself or spits up everything undigested,
 With sheer disdain and hatreds malice intent.
On a black and white chess board the winners takes it all,
Strategies grand masters playing with living pawns.
Treaties written in vanishing ink, promises disappear in thin air,
 Revealing a liars sharpened tongue.
The odds have always been stacked against those believing in fairness.
A rogue tidal wave of humanity has wiped out a nation,
And it's culture within the blink of an eye.
Flights appendages are clipped on the dove of peace, leaving it
Unable to soar above it's own habitat.
Wreckage’s refugees stumble in the ruins after math,
Rapes victims of civilizations civilized,
Are left devoid of their heritages lineage and legacy.
Elders chieftains representatives of a great nation,
Smoke peace pipes in the white mans hunting lodge
In Washington.
As human beings are hauled like cattle's cargo,
Taken to reservations burial grounds. 
Ancient ancestors lit up the heaven's vast expanse,
 By torches flame,
To guide the souls of the dead unto their great spiritual
 Plain beyond.
The pale horse gallops forward without a rider,
And the red people become a phantom tribe vanishing
 Upon the winds shifting tides.
Giving one last final trible battle war cry, 
Why my father but the great spirit answers not.
Behold America's legacy, a world trampled beneath
It's heavy iron fist, all in the name of progress or for the cause
Of Manifest destiny.

BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN

Echoes of the Heart

There are echoes I hear, old songs in the dark
of the Indian ways, of long ago days,
still heard all around, in our valley below...
Where their dreams of tomorrow, are still sung by the lark....
 
As the twilight would come, under a red setting sun,
with the fragrance of loam, and the tired walk done... 
they would bed under trees where the heather was strewn
they would burn a small fire, and prepare a warm meal,
with smoke in the breeze, while the whippoorwill's song
would, drift by the face of the moon

On their heels was the dust, in the noontime sun
They journeyed from tribes from the dusk of the past, 
wearing the colorful hope of tomorrow's new task 
Moving to where the buffalo roam
Then moving again, to find a new home

There are echoes I hear, old songs in the dark
of the Indian ways, of long ago days,
still heard all around, in our valley below...
Where their dreams of tomorrow, are still sung by the lark....

by Carrie Richards 

The Wisdom of Russell Means - Final Interview

"One is expected to know things, to believe things.  Knowing and believing are all in your head - there is nothing in your heart.  If you cannot feel that the earth is your grandmother, then of course you will find it easy to rape her, to behave as if she is under your dominion.  You will find it easy to believe that we humans are the dominant species, and to act as though the earth and everything on it are ours to do with as we please.  ... if all human beings were taken away, life on earth would flourish."


"We Indians do not teach that there is only one god.  We know that everything has power, including the most inanimate, inconsequential things.  Stones have power.  A blade of grass has power.  Trees and clouds and all our relatives in the insect and animal world have power.  We believe we must respect that power by acknowledging it's presence.  By honoring the power of the spirits in that way, it becomes our power as well.  It protects us."


" They don't understand that a slice of the pie isn't the whole pie - but they wonder why they are always hungry."


" If you learn from an experience, that's good - so nothing bad happened to you."


" All European tradition, Marxism included, has conspired to defy the natural order of all things. Mother Earth has been abused, the powers have been abused, and this cannot go on forever. No theory can alter that simple fact. Mother Earth will retaliate, the whole environment will retaliate, and the abusers will be eliminated. Things come full circle, back to where they started. That's revolution."

There Is A God

fast train from ne033x on Vimeo.

This poem may not rhyme,
It may not say what a poem should;
And the only reason I'm writing it
Is because a friend asked if I woukld.
So many things have been said and done
In this life of mine:
Some good to be embraced -
Most better left behind.
But, the truth is, And I'll say this but once;
Life is truly beautiful
If we just give it a chance!

Right now, my heart is broken,
Laying, crushed on the floor;
There's no reason for me to carry on -
What reason is there for?
I know where I've been -
I know where I am;
You can't imagine the pain
That I must muster just to stand.
Yet, stand I do,
And speak, I must;
For a message to share -
In what I've come to trust...

My heart has been broken
More times than you know;
By life, by man,
By even my ego.
I've spent two years
In a loneliness you can't imagine;
Unless you've been in solitary confinement
In a man made prison.
I've lost me soul mate
Just weeks before we were wed -
Do you know what it's like to really lose,
"I'm sorry, Danny, she's dead."
I've lost my children,
Everyone sees me as a thug;
When they were my hope -
My reason for getting off drugs...

Right now,
Even as I speak these words;
I don't ask for sympathy -
Just maybe that one person heard.
My love is gone -
Once again I feel pain;
Yet I stand tall and proud -
Faith in something beyond this rain...

There is a God!
I've felt Him here with me;
It's what carries me on
When I should have broke free.
There is a God -
I wish I could show you the way!
You'd break free right now
 And escape your yesterday!

My dreams keep me going -
Right here and right now,
A brighter tomorrow -
Of this, I vow.

I love you, Dara,
And I understand you had to move on;
For Blaze and everything good -
Beyond what we knew was wrong.

by ne033x aka Danny Watson

Somewhere I Have Never Travelled

somewhere i have never travelled, gladly beyond 
any experience, your eyes have their silence: 
in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me, 
or which i cannot touch because they are too near 

your slightest look easily will unclose me 
though i have closed myself as fingers, 
you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens 
(touching skilfully, misteriously) her first rose 

or if your wish be to close me, i and 
my life will shut very beautifully, suddenly, 
as when the heart of this flower imagines 
the snow carefully everywhere descending; 

nothing we are to perceive in this world equals 
the power of your intense fragility: whose texture 
compels me with the colour of its countries, 
rendering death and forever with each breathing 

(i do not know what it is about you that closes 
and opens; only something in me understands 
the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses) 
nobody, not even the rain, has such small hands 

by E.E. Cummings 

If You Forget Me

I want you to know
one thing.

You know how this is:
if I look
at the crystal moon, at the red branch
of the slow autumn at my window,
if I touch
near the fire
the impalpable ash
or the wrinkled body of the log,
everything carries me to you,
as if everything that exists,
aromas, light, metals,
were little boats
that sail
toward those isles of yours that wait for me.

Well, now,
if little by little you stop loving me
I shall stop loving you little by little.

If suddenly
you forget me
do not look for me,
for I shall already have forgotten you.

If you think it long and mad,
the wind of banners
that passes through my life,
and you decide
to leave me at the shore
of the heart where I have roots,
remember
that on that day,
at that hour,
I shall lift my arms
and my roots will set off
to seek another land.

But
if each day,
each hour,
you feel that you are destined for me
with implacable sweetness,
if each day a flower
climbs up to your lips to seek me,
ah my love, ah my own,
in me all that fire is repeated,
in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten,
my love feeds on your love, beloved,
and as long as you live it will be in your arms
without leaving mine.

by Pablo Neruda

Poem in October

It was my thirtieth year to heaven

Woke to my hearing from harbour and neighbour wood   

      And the mussel pooled and the heron

                  Priested shore

            The morning beckon

With water praying and call of seagull and rook

And the knock of sailing boats on the net webbed wall   

            Myself to set foot

                  That second

      In the still sleeping town and set forth.

      My birthday began with the water-

Birds and the birds of the winged trees flying my name   

      Above the farms and the white horses

                  And I rose   

            In rainy autumn

And walked abroad in a shower of all my days.

High tide and the heron dived when I took the road

            Over the border

                  And the gates

      Of the town closed as the town awoke.

      A springful of larks in a rolling

Cloud and the roadside bushes brimming with whistling   

      Blackbirds and the sun of October

                  Summery

            On the hill’s shoulder,

Here were fond climates and sweet singers suddenly   

Come in the morning where I wandered and listened   

            To the rain wringing

                  Wind blow cold

      In the wood faraway under me.

      Pale rain over the dwindling harbour

And over the sea wet church the size of a snail   

      With its horns through mist and the castle   

                  Brown as owls

            But all the gardens

Of spring and summer were blooming in the tall tales   

Beyond the border and under the lark full cloud.   

            There could I marvel

                  My birthday

      Away but the weather turned around.

      It turned away from the blithe country

And down the other air and the blue altered sky   

      Streamed again a wonder of summer

                  With apples

            Pears and red currants

And I saw in the turning so clearly a child’s

Forgotten mornings when he walked with his mother   

            Through the parables

                  Of sun light

      And the legends of the green chapels

      And the twice told fields of infancy

That his tears burned my cheeks and his heart moved in mine.   

      These were the woods the river and sea

                  Where a boy

            In the listening

Summertime of the dead whispered the truth of his joy   

To the trees and the stones and the fish in the tide.

            And the mystery

                  Sang alive

      Still in the water and singingbirds.

      And there could I marvel my birthday

Away but the weather turned around. And the true   

      Joy of the long dead child sang burning

                  In the sun.

            It was my thirtieth

Year to heaven stood there then in the summer noon   

Though the town below lay leaved with October blood.   

            O may my heart’s truth

                  Still be sung

      On this high hill in a year’s turning.

by Dylan Thomas

Addiction

Blindness.
A cloud of ignorance encompasses me.
Nothing can distract me from my dream.

Nothing... except -
The newfound hope of a better future
That overshadows previous fantasy.

Looking back, it's somewhat sad -
Everything that could have happened, but didn't,
Everything I was missing over the past four years.

True, there's anger - there's hurt.
But only for a while. Now I focus
On the wonderful blessings God has given me.

What I have now is *wholesome*,
And infinitely more worthwhile
Than anything I imagined I *might* obtain.

I was infatuated to the point of stupidity,
And would sacrifice anything for slim possibility...
Because I believe in miracles.

*Yes*, I believe in miracles -
The miracle that I could want something better for me,
And that my addiction paved the way for my brighter future.


by Amandanette

I Believe In Love

" dreaming about you is not a sin ....
I will have your heart ...
believe me I'll win ...
I'll show the world that I can do it ...
I will reach you ...
reach the summit ...
I will bring the stars for you ...
cross the seas and deserts ...
make every dream you have true ...
It's days ... It's years ... I don't know ...
I believe in love ...
it is the source of all miracles ...
It is the hearts stove ...
it is the hope candles ...
to enlighten the the way of the night ...
who will break the walls of hopelessness ...
and reach you ... touch you hands ...
and dance with you ... the final dance ...
it will never happen again for me ...
it is one and only ... "

by Oaljararha

Just Say Goodbye

why do you have to lie?
why make up all those alibis
you just have to say goodbye
let me walk away and cry

you said you love me but,
fine with me, I can live with that
you asked for some space
I heeded and gone back to my place

why do you have to lie?
why make up all those alibis
you just have to say goodbye
let me walk away and cry

a week later I called to say hi
you told me you needed more time
I held back, let you be alone
knowing everything’s just fine

why do you have to lie?
why make up all those alibis
you just have to say goodbye
let me walk away and cry

a month, you haven’t return my calls
confuse I am looking at the walls
I decided to surprise you and all
bringing wine and some chicken rolls

but to my surprise you weren’t alone
you were with someone new all along

why do you have to lie?
why make up all those alibis
you just have to say goodbye
let me walk away and cry

two years have passed by
you called me to say hi
telling me you’re sorry and cried
and that you were so blind

it’s all behind me now, I have a good life
now that I have somebody to hold at night

I don’t need to lie
I will not make up alibis
I’ll just say goodbye
let you walk away and cry


by  R.S. Mallari

Our Deepest Fear

Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate.
Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure.
It is our light, not our darkness
That most frightens us.

We ask ourselves
Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous?
Actually, who are you not to be?
You are a child of God.

Your playing small
Does not serve the world.
There's nothing enlightened about shrinking
So that other people won't feel insecure around you.

We are all meant to shine,
As children do.
We were born to make manifest
The glory of God that is within us.

It's not just in some of us;
It's in everyone.

And as we let our own light shine,
We unconsciously give other people permission to do the same.
As we're liberated from our own fear,
Our presence automatically liberates others.


By Marianne Williamson

The Invitation

It doesn't interest me what you do for a living.
I want to know what you ache for,
And if you dare to dream of meeting
Your heart's longing.

It doesn't interest me how old you are.
I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool
For love, for your dream,
For the adventure of being alive.

It doesn't interest me what planets are squaring your moon.
I want to know if you have touched the center of your own sorrow,
If you have been opened by life's betrayals,
Or have become shriveled and closed from fear of further pain.

I want to know if you can sit with pain,
Mine or your own,
Without moving
To hide it or fade it or fix it.

I want to know if you can be with joy,
Mine or your own,
If you can dance with wildness
and let the ecstasy fill you to the tips of your fingers and toes
Without cautioning us to be careful, be realistic,
or to remember the limitations of being human.

It doesn't interest me if the story you are telling me is true.
I want to know if you can disappoint another to be true to yourself,
If you can bear the accusation of betrayal and not betray your own soul.
I want to know if you can be faithless and therefore be trustworthy.

I want to know if you can see beauty
Even when it is not pretty every day,
And if you can source your life
From its presence.

I want to know if you can live with failure,
Yours and mine,
And still stand on the edge of a lake and shout to the silver of the full moon,
"Yes!"

It doesn't interest me to know where you live or how much money you have.
I want to know if you can get up after the night of grief and despair,
Weary and bruised to the bone,
And do what needs to be done for the children.

It doesn't interest me who you are, how you came to be here.
I want to know if you will stand
In the center of the fire with me
And not shrink back.

It doesn't interest me where or what or with whom you have studied.
I want to know what sustains you
From the inside
When all else falls away.

I want to know if you can be alone
With yourself,
And if you truly like the company you keep
In the empty moments.


By Oriah Mountain Dreamer

A World of Lost Minds

The morning sun had set
now the night would beget
the sparkling stars that shine
speaking to this heart of mine

Where art thou Lord of dreams
I watch the ethereal streams of
haunted souls go by bringing 
tears to my eyes for all of their
needs

 For I am not content until I get
consent to enter the depths of
discernment to learn the measure
of your design so that you may
define my deeds

The systems of the world are meeting
manic minds  scheming  to  lay waste
causing hell in haste,  as the  liars who
live in lairs , can't get away from the
truths they fear, minds now lost

At what cost, the ignorant and numb
rely on the common sense of some
to save them from, the trials that lie
before us hoping to stem the evil course,
while they just find a place to play

Must the past be repeated, by the
indifferent who will retreat, allowing
things to pass them by, without even
trying to understand that our
nightmares have become a reality

by E T Waldron

The Rider

A boy told me

if he roller-skated fast enough

his loneliness couldn’t catch up to him,

the best reason I ever heard

for trying to be a champion.

What I wonder tonight

pedaling hard down King William Street

is if it translates to bicycles.

A victory! To leave your loneliness

panting behind you on some street corner

while you float free into a cloud of sudden azaleas,

pink petals that have never felt loneliness,

no matter how slowly they fell.


by Naomi Shihab Nye

Lost...

My Angel...
Where are you?
I'm lost, confused, alone...
I cannot see you...
There is darkness around me;
The fire has died, my light blown away
By an unwanted breeze...
I am wandering, going around and around
in circles...
Is there no end to this loneliness?

My Angel...
Where are you?
My heart is sad, it cannot hear your songs.
All I hear is the echo of your love,
Its melody fading...
Fading...
Fading...

Now there is only silence, maddening silence.
It is suffocating, draining my heart of your songs...
Is there no escape from this madness?

My Angel...
Where are you?
I am cold...
I cannot feel your wings around me,
Cannot feel your loving arms to embrace me...
There is only emptiness...
Emptiness that pulls, and pushes, and shoves...
The emptiness is within me, devouring me whole,
Leaving nothing left but an empty soul...
Where are you, my Angel? Come to me, fill me up with your love... Make me
whole again...
Do not leave me in this pit of despair...

My Angel...
Where are you?
I cannot see you, hear you, feel you...
Have you gone away from me? have you taken away my heart...

... My Angel,

... where are you?


by John Laset

The Long Goodbye

Through eyes full of tears
Memories from all the years
I often sit and wonder why
Pondering this long goodbye

In April of two thousand eleven
The Lord took you to heaven
You left and went away
On that fateful day

 If you could only see
What it's done to me
To lose the life I knew
So lonely, so sad, so blue

All I want to do is cry
And breath a heavy sigh
With you went my heart
We will always be apart

I don't know what to do
Now that I'm without you
Dealing with all the sorrow
Not caring about tomorrow

It's just that I don't care
For a life that I can't share
Now all I can do is try
To finish this long goodbye

 by Gary Egge

Please Hold Onto Hope - A Personal Message from ne033x

Many of my friends and family know the "history" I have with my ex, Dara. Her drug addiction, and to be fair - mine too. I ended up quitting, and she didn't. She ended up literally losing everything, including her baby boy, Blaze, who I helped raise. I haven't spoken much of the details, but just know that for the past many months I have tried my very best to deal with an absolutely broken heart. You have no idea. I was in Blaze's life since he was just a few months old - changed his diapers, and tried my very best to show him a good world. He was my little buddy. And, he still is - will always be.

In the end, it wasn't about me and Dara, but this little child. He was taken away from his parents and put into foster care, and rightly so. It all depended on Dara to get clean to save him. I tried so hard to get her to realize this. I got frustrated often - even going so far as to tell her that Blaze doesn't deserve this, and that it was her fault. Not a day passed where I did not worry what Blaze was thinking of all of this. This is sense of pain and sorrow that no words can ever describe. What I have been dealing with.

Anyhow, a couple weeks ago, Dara came over and told me she was going to check into treatment for her drug addiction. I was so happy. BUT, I've heard it all before, so I just hoped it was true. She was that beautiful Dara I fell in love with, and I was just floored. I told her that I would literally do anything to help her with this. Well, she cleaned up my house, took care of me, and then all the sudden she was gone. I assumed she went back to her junkie buddies, and at this point, I literally lost all hope. If you watched my Queen music video, that's the story behind it. http://youtu.be/C0dKQrjkHEc

So, I didn't think it could get any worse, but it did - losing all hope in Dara getting better, and for saving Blaze from this bullshit he's had to see. Everything was now a pure struggle for me - just the simple act of getting out of bed in the morning. I felt lost, and everything just seemed hopeless.

Until yesterday...

The first thing that happened was - that morning - me admitting to one of my closest bros that no one understands the bond that Dara and me have. And, I know she's upset cuz I feel it. But, I can't do anything anymore cuz we'd came to the end of our journey together. I remember him telling me, 'you don't have to tell me what you and Dara have because I know.' And, it's the truth - Dara is my soulmate - we both know this. And, I am going to help illustrate this point.

About noon, a friend of mine stopped by and in conversation she brought up that she thought Dara had went to treatment after all. I was shocked - I said, "WHAT?" And, she told me that she didn't know for sure, but she thought Dara had went into the drug treatment program.

About an hour later, I go to my bro again, and I told him what I heard. I told him that I really needed to know for sure because it would literally change everything! I called my friend back and she told me Dara won't even be able to call or write for fifteen days, if she was in treatment. All I could think about was that I needed to know for sure - so I could stop trying to hate someone I love so much.

About an hour later, a call came from a Portland, Oregon number. It was Dara. The first thing she said was that she had this strong feeling that she needed to call me. She convinced the staff there that it was an emergency and called me from the office.

Man! Here's where my "manhood" comes into question because I started crying the minute I heard her voice. She'd been clean and in treatment for 5 days already, and she liked it. It was not as hard as she thought it would be. She has her own little apartment, and Blaze will be there in a couple weeks. Yes, it's a family drug abuse treatment program. She's in another city, far away, and she said the program will last months. I reassured her that I would literally do anything to help her with this! She needs anything - she better ask!

Anyhow, I know in my heart and soul that the change has taken hold of her life. This is a miracle. This is - literally - all that meant anything to me in life right now. We both told each other, 'I love you', and I am so happy. And, I'm writing this as an example.

Miracles do happen!

Hidden Mystery

For yesterday is but a dream,
And tomorrow is but a vision.
But today well lived makes every yesterday a dream of happiness,
And every tomorrow a vision of hope.In the deepest depths of you and me
In the deepest depths of we
Lies the most beautiful jewel
Shining forth eternally

Within that precious jewel
Within that priceless piece of we
Lies a time beyond all time
Lies a place beyond all space

Within that sacred source of radiance
Lies a love beyond all love
Waiting
          Waiting
                    Waiting
Ever so patiently

Waiting for you, waiting for me
Waiting patiently for all to see
The beauty that is you inside of me
The beauty that is me inside of thee

In the deepest depths of you and me
In the deepest depths of we
Lies the love and wisdom
Of all Eternity


By Fred Burks

Compassion

Angels must be confused by war.
Both sides praying for protection,
yet someone always gets hurt.
Someone dies.
Someone cries so deep
they lose their watery state.

Angels must be confused by war.
Who can they help?
Who can they clarify?
Whose mercy do they cast to the merciless?
No modest scream can be heard.
No stainless pain can be felt.
All is clear to angels
except in war.

When I awoke to this truth,
it was from a dream I had last night.
I saw two angels conversing in a field
of children's spirits rising like silver smoke.
The angels were fighting among themselves
about which side was right,
and which was wrong.
Who started the conflict?

Suddenly, the angels stilled themselves
like a stalled pendulum,
and they shed their compassion
to the rising smoke
of souls who bore the watermark of war.
They turned to me with those eyes
from God's library,
and all the pieces fallen
were raised in unison,
intertwined like the breath
of flames in a holy furnace.

Nothing in war comes to destruction,
but the illusion of separateness.
I heard this spoken so clearly I could only
write it down like a forged signature.
I remember the compassion,
mountainous, proportioned for the universe.
I think a tiny fleck still sticks to me,
like gossamer threads
from a spider's web.

And now, when I think of war,
I flick these threads to all the universe,
hoping they stick on others as they did me.
Knitting angels and animals
to the filamental grace of compassion.
The reticulum of our skyward home.


By WingMakers