NikolaiI
03-04-2015, 07:27 PM
I breathed with the angels,
when I learned that kindness brings wings.
And I learned that love brings second-sight,
and forgiveness brings foreknowledge of the future.
When you plant the seeds of generosity,
Eventually there grows to be
A forest from the seeds of the tree -
Ever giving life off its limbs and its boughs;
Life, stored energy, in every living, breathing, breadth of its frame.
Life Tree,
Gift Tree,
Breath Tree,
Tree of our Home.
Tree, stay no wider,
stand no taller than
the highest reaches you can
glad with the help of a spider
exert your special might, your
delivering love of the sky, and the sons of the sky,
Sweet frames that we'd bring to the King,
and glorious reply of our offering,
A house lived in the sunshine,
and a tree feeling frisky with the summer wine,
is the death of a life that never had taste.
A happy, creative child,
is something I never wished to lose,
and I kept to while every abuse -
Never occurred, I would never let me my spirit wild
encounter any surrender of power to another -
I stand on my own to feet, with my head in the clear,
and my sun and my sky at my beck and breath.
Love is around me, and vanishing quickly
are all of the visions of the previous, sickly
voices I listened to, glancingly, laughingly,
lovingly, sparingly, as I learned to live by
a separate set of rules, set distinct for those, free,
with forever hearts that can not be turned off,
or turned aside from whatever suffering arises,
and whatever human emotion captures attention,
for a little while. To grow strong,
is to know love and to pass it along,
to know grief as it truly is, infinite life,
and know that life can never grow into anything but life.
To know that the leaf can never be separate from the tree,
sweet roots can never become separate from the source.
when I learned that kindness brings wings.
And I learned that love brings second-sight,
and forgiveness brings foreknowledge of the future.
When you plant the seeds of generosity,
Eventually there grows to be
A forest from the seeds of the tree -
Ever giving life off its limbs and its boughs;
Life, stored energy, in every living, breathing, breadth of its frame.
Life Tree,
Gift Tree,
Breath Tree,
Tree of our Home.
Tree, stay no wider,
stand no taller than
the highest reaches you can
glad with the help of a spider
exert your special might, your
delivering love of the sky, and the sons of the sky,
Sweet frames that we'd bring to the King,
and glorious reply of our offering,
A house lived in the sunshine,
and a tree feeling frisky with the summer wine,
is the death of a life that never had taste.
A happy, creative child,
is something I never wished to lose,
and I kept to while every abuse -
Never occurred, I would never let me my spirit wild
encounter any surrender of power to another -
I stand on my own to feet, with my head in the clear,
and my sun and my sky at my beck and breath.
Love is around me, and vanishing quickly
are all of the visions of the previous, sickly
voices I listened to, glancingly, laughingly,
lovingly, sparingly, as I learned to live by
a separate set of rules, set distinct for those, free,
with forever hearts that can not be turned off,
or turned aside from whatever suffering arises,
and whatever human emotion captures attention,
for a little while. To grow strong,
is to know love and to pass it along,
to know grief as it truly is, infinite life,
and know that life can never grow into anything but life.
To know that the leaf can never be separate from the tree,
sweet roots can never become separate from the source.