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The union of two hearts is the most beautiful song of them all,
the gift of becoming one with another is the most wonderful
and the most precious of miracles that can ever befall.
When two people first meet and almost instantly they have an energy,
when two friends see each other for the first time in a new light,
and the meaning of love and life is no longer a mystery,
when two minds think of the future
and cannot imagine existing without their mate,
when two hearts beat in-time with one another
and there is no end to the music their resonance can create.
Love is more than a word,
to be in love and to be loved is more than a feeling,
love is a bond that unites all the senses, love is natural, irresistible,
beautiful, love is healing.
Never take love for granted,
never disbelieve that one day you may meet your prince, your princess-
your partner in all things life-changing, amazing, and magical;
because the marriage of two hearts, two minds, two voices, as one
is the joyful odyssey of life, and nothing short of a miracle.
Why do we write? Why do we paint?
Why do we learn? Why do we acquaint?
For thousands of years visionaries, dreamers, luminaries,
artisans, and inventors, have redefined the definition of how we should live our lives;
for thousands of years the innovators and the most inspired of their time
have been the heralds of renaissance, and to this day their influence still imparts and survives.
Every person who has ever lived is the child of renaissance:
the philosophic, the artistic, the humanistic, the stylistic-
everyone who loves to sing, laugh, and dance,
is a part of the constantly evolving, reshaping, and reforming, renaissance
that is occurring every hour of every day,
every person is a voice to the future, as well as a memory of yesterday.
The stories of our origins, religions, motivations, and creations,
have written within there passages, expressions, and source,
the evidence of the human renaissance epic-
the questioning of our purpose, and our world;
the axioms of the curious, the knowledgable, the wise, and the mystic.
The renaissance goes on. The renaissance is now.
What the renaissance will look like in the future we have no way of knowing how.
What is already self-evident and self-fulfilling, however,
is that the renaissance will go on without end;
the renaissance will be the constant of every idea,
the manifestation of every trend.
On the 21st of April 1981,
David and Bernadette Hastings were blessed with the birth of a baby son.
Today, now, on the 21st of April 2011,
sitting in his house in the Centre of England, in the village of Meriden,
David and Bernadette’s son, Mark- Me,
on my 30th birthday is reflecting on my life thus far, who I am,
and what will be.
Happy birthday, Mark! The years feel as if they have passed with the snap of a finger!
And even now, after all these years, I still feel like I am a beginner!
Over the years my life’s unfinished puzzle has seen many pieces fall into place, and has seen many pieces fall away.
Over the 30 years of my life I felt overwhelming hurt, loss, heartbreak;
but I have also been inspired, and have marveled at the magnificent beauty of the Milky Way.
After all these years I finally feel like I have arrived.
Because of the love and the support of my family and friends I am a better man, and it is because of them that I have thrived.
I have no doubt that the next 30 years is going to be as eventful, inspiring, and amazing;
but right now I just want to make the most of what I have,
because every day is a blessing!
There is no planet more perfect. There is no home more idyllic.
When seen from space our planet, our home, our world, our Earth,
must seem like the work of illusion, or magic.
Those vast oceans of life, those sprawling landmasses of brown and green beauty;
those hives of light, sound, faces, and thoughts;
those inventions of connectivity, communication, understanding, and discovery, that are undeniably the offspring of humanity.
What would the seemingly perfect sphere of humankind look like to a visitor from on high?
What would the world that we have built say to an alien explorer,
or a descendant of ours from the future if they were to see our past, and our present instantly, within the blink of an eye?
The sphere of life that we are blessed to be inhabitants of is the single greatest creation that anyone will ever be witnessed to;
I think that we all become too caught-up in our own petty, self-invented
and self-manifested, divisions, boundaries, and borders-
so much so that I think we forget that we are all the same- one race, not two.
We are all part of a sphere of infinite beauty, diversity, history, life, purpose, and colour-
a self-made world that offers a stage to its most intelligent child
the opportunity to invent and sustain an endless summer.
If we do indeed succeed in answering that question of why we are here,
it will be a monument to all life to revere;
it will be the dream of Earth, the song of humanity,
the poetry of the sphere.
The charm of life is that nothing is ever truly forgotten-
the consciousness of the world has a memory of its own
that is as rich and long-lasting as cotton.
Charm comes in many forms, captivation can originate from a single spark;
the avatar of the inspired can be as subtle as a whisper, a look,
or the way they make their mark.
There are charmers of the world from all walks of life,
be they a poet, a gardener, a teacher, an idol, or a housewife-
someone who when they enter view dazzles the senses and the mind,
someone who puts a smile on your face just because of who they are,
and the manner in which they are refined.
Many of those who cast a spell are not aware that they emanate such charm,
many of those who enamor with ease don’t know that they carry such grace,
or personify such calm.
Of course there are those who know that they are special,
and that their words and their demeanor mean more to others than anything-
a paragon of the times that they live in,
the sound and the resonation of the instrument of the days string.
The great charm of the charmers is that they give a positive bearing
as to the direction that people might choose to point their compass;
a road of optimism, hope, confidence, and belief, that only we ourselves
can build before us.
It’s gone! It’s abandoned me!
A cloud has amassed, a fog has engulfed me.
My spark of inspiration has been extinguished,
the aura of life has lost its glow;
my identity, my imagination, my world is close to death-
I am in-between realities, I am in limbo.
Silence is now the language of my thoughts,
my life’s purpose is stuck in a fugue;
I feel like my entire universe has ended, void- and I am alone, solitary, nude.
The poetry of the galaxy used to be my natural tongue,
the rhyme and the reason of things was my field of view;
but now I can’t tell up from down, beauty from emptiness,
what is false from what is true.
My greatest fear has been realized, I have fallen from grace;
I feel as if I am floating free of anchor in an un-star-spangled space.
I read, I watch, I talk, and I listen;
I stare at a computer screen, and at a white sheet of paper;
but when I try to write something, I feel like my muse and my mind is in prison.
This is the end. I have failed. My days have ran out, like the sands of time.
No more poems. No more poetry. No more inspiration. No more rhyme.
Then I see it. Then the sun rises.
The explosion of creation; the messenger, known by many guises
arrives, as it has has done so many times before,
with a gift of hope- the key to an ever-present, but unseen door-
and also with an answer as to why I am here;
why we are sometimes overflowing with inspiration and new ideas;
and why it is important to truly embrace joy, and to shed a tear.
I feel like I am myself again.
I feel like the veil of uncertainty has lifted.
I feel like I am ready to live and write the poetry of my life,
and to share the love and the purpose that I have been gifted.
The Life, the Light, the Tears, of the Poet of the Sphere 