You are currently browsing the tag archive for the ‘hopeful’ tag.
Memories and thoughts,
voices and echoes,
strangers and shadows;
what is going to happen next no one really knows,
what will happen all depends on where
and in which direction you want to go.
You can be just standing in the sun
when a face from the past will stop you
and say hello to you,
and say also ‘remember me’;
you can be lost in thought enjoying the sunshine
when something amazing and out of the ordinary
might happen and take you away to where you were going
and where you need to be.
It is amazing how many people you remember meeting,
and how many people remember meeting you;
it is the best thing ever when you run into someone
you didn’t think you would ever see again,
and you just start talking like no time has passed
between you seeing each other,
and it all just comes unexpectedly and out of the blue.
When I shake someone’s hand and I say goodbye to them,
I always think that that will be the last time
that I will see them in the light of the day again;
when I say goodbye it always feels like forever;
however, time and again, I am reminded that nothing is final,
and that life is sometimes as predictable as the weather.
There is nothing like seeing surprise in someone’s eyes;
there is nothing that feels like perfection than a connection;
there is nothing that is sweeter than a hopeful dreamer;
there is nothing more inspiring and invigorating
than the stories of a true dreamer, adventurer, traveler, story-teller.
When you leave your home, and you roam;
when you see things without having to look;
when you literally get a feeling in your bones;
when you know that something is meant for you,
and meant to happen to you,
and is more than just good luck;
when someone does something for you
and they do it with no expectation of anything in return,
especially if genuine compassion and generosity
doesn’t happen to you that often,
then you will see and believe that something, or someone,
once seen will never and can never be forgotten.
Why do we live?
Why do we die?
Do we live so that we can die?
Do we die so that someone can live?
Should we smile after we have cried?
Should we cry for those who will always be in our hearts,
and who we will always be with?
To forget is not in our nature;
to remember is in our blood;
to pay tribute is like creating a door;
to memorialize the fallen is to keep alive the memory
of those who once ran, walked, waited, stood;
to wear a symbol of respect and remembrance
is a hopeful token that costs nothing,
but is worth more than any money could buy;
to feel and to think about what someone must have been through
is a wonderful thing;
to glimpse even for a second that which
someone may rather try to hide
shows you in a glaring and glorious light;
to lay down a flower, a wreath, a thought,
even if you are doing so for those
who will always be a complete stranger,
is like a burst of colour in a field
on a beautiful day in spring.
Every fallen hero had a life-time of dreams;
every child fears the monsters of their nightmares;
every man and woman marching forward to a beat
knows what loyalty and duty means;
everyone who does what they can for someone in need
knows that life for all its magic and beauty
is not always fair.
Every person can make a difference;
every person we meet can be a guardian angel;
every person can be a guiding presence;
every person’s reputation precedes them,
and whether they know it or not
that sense of who they are
is always floating on the surface of a perceptual ocean,
until it rises fully and becomes visible.
There can be only one life for everybody;
there can be only one body for every life;
there can be lots of ways to remember someone,
and one of the best ways is to keep thinking about them,
to keep loving them, and whenever you look for someone
and need someone they are who you will see,
and they will be always a part of the dreams that you have at night.
When we take our final step on our life’s path,
and we step to the side, and stop and watch
the rest of the world, the rest of the universe, pass us by,
we can rest, we can be at peace, we can shine,
and be there for our loved ones,
like we have always been looked on and protected
by those who came before us who reside in the light of the stars,
that is when we realize that we never leave each other,
because we are always together-
no matter how close, or distant;
no matter how near, or far.
The sky is glowing;
the fields are bright green;
the trees are swaying;
the morning sunshine
is making everything look more beautiful
than I have ever seen.
The birds are singing;
the ladybirds are foraging;
the flowers are blooming;
the spirit of nature is renewing.
The wind is blowing;
the people are smiling;
the children are laughing;
the dogs are barking;
the cats are resting;
even those who have a job to do
are thoroughly enjoying being awake and alive-
looking, talking, rushing, walking,
evolving, and soaring.
The colours are vibrant;
the music is slow;
the energy all around is more tangible and potent
than you could ever want;
the liquid refreshments continue to flow.
The bells at the turn of the hour ring out;
the statues of metal and stone
look as if they are about to come to life;
there is ice-cream being eaten hurriedly before it melts;
there is the potential of a hopeful and happy future
to be seen in every shared like and dislike.
The lovers are loving;
the readers are reading;
the listeners are listening;
the searchers are searching.
The air is warm to the touch;
the unseen and unnoticed heroes and angels
are doing what they always do,
and are gifting as many people as they can
with hope, joy, love, and fun.
Caring about the well-being of another has never meant as much;
everyone and everything is thankful
as they smile and say hello to the sun.
Her sparkling eyes dazzle more brilliantly
and twinkle more brightly than the shining stars
I see at night;
her warm and glowing smile radiates more amazingly
and stunningly than the sun that blesses my day;
when she wakes up every morning;
as she opens her eyes and spreads her wings,
she takes off from her slumber
and she just briefly takes flight;
when she yawns and opens her mouth to greet the new light
a slight growl can be heard in her voice to warn any bad spirits
that might want to come her way.
When the golden sunlight first touches her face,
the beat of her butterfly heart intensifies
and thunders silently in her chest;
when the heat of the day is felt by her
on the crown of her mane of hair,
her tiger eyes close and then widen in extreme delight and pleasure;
when she feels the sensation of the cool air of the wind
captivate her and carry her,
her butterfly beauty changes the colour of her skin like a chameleon,
and the whole world can see her mimetic spirit
pulse and vibrate and reflect her inner infinite beauty
outwards in every imaginable colour of the rainbow-
like witnessing a deep and meaningful secret of nature confessed;
when she walks with confidence and with purpose,
the impact and the sound of her inner tigress stride
hypnotizes everyone who sees her,
and sometimes when people see her walk by them
they have to look twice to see whether she actually
walks on two legs or four.
The sky is like the dreams that she plays in daily,
and those that she inspires in the minds of others-
and when people do dream of her, at night or in the day,
they know she is still with them,
because the hopeful symbol of renewal is ever-present,
and because they know that the appearance of the butterfly
that they see is no coincidence or accident-
because the human butterfly that she is is also the one
and the queen of all the beautiful butterflies of nature
that influence and make possible the momentum and the magic of the whole;
as she walks passed other people, and she sees their inner animal guides
and nature walking along side them,
while still being a part of them,
and the instinctual representation of them, to those with the sight,
and as she bows her head to stone statues that welcome her to pass by them
and cross their path, like a Bridge of Lions in sunny St. Augustine in Florida,
she feels her wild beating heart and the blood in her veins surge with energy
and intensity, and make her feel incredible emotion
and an overwhelming connection to all things that walk on the ground,
or those that fly in the air, that she has felt all her life,
and the joy that she feels every time makes her imagination
come alive and race out of control.
She is a butterfly.
She is a tiger.
The world see her in so many ways,
but there are not enough words to ever describe her by.
No one can ever not be touched and effected by her.
She is a tiger butterfly.
She is a butterfly tiger.
When you see her you too will feel wild,
when you feel her your heart and your spirit
will lift you off the ground too,
so that you know what it is like to see true beauty
in all its forms, and fly higher and higher,
with the strength and the courage of a tiger,
and with the wings of a butterfly.
There is no more powerful light in the dark;
there is no more powerful and beautiful beacon of hope and happiness;
there is no more powerful feeling that you feel beating every second in your heart;
there is no more powerful reaction than sitting back
and marveling at the gift that you wait all year for-
the gift of family, the gift of belonging, the gift of dreams-
covered in flashing lights and tinsel, and festive ornaments,
around your tree of Christmas.
The Christmas tree is an amazing legacy;
the Christmas tree is a symbol of love and family;
the Christmas tree is the most wonderful story of an entire year;
the Christmas tree is the most inspiring and colorful,
phenomenal and emotional experience for some,
because it is something that so many people
have a hand in making it what it is,
and it can be enough to bring you to tears.
Whether it is getting the Christmas tree from the attic
that your family have had and have used
and will continue to use for years to come,
or the fantastic and amazing ritual of actually going
to a Christmas tree farm and picking a real, green,
and still growing pine tree-
everything that comes with the finding and the choosing of the one tree,
the favourite tree, the right tree, is the best and the most exciting ceremony
and custom, and it will continue to be as it has been
since the tradition of the Christmas tree began.
The feeling of a real, freshly-cut, Christmas tree is amazing.
The smell of a real, pine, Christmas tree is so intoxicating.
The sight of a real Christmas tree forest is something you never forget,
and the thought of it takes you back to when you were a child.
The idea and the understanding of what Christmas, family,
life, is all about and why it is important to remember as much as you can
about every moment can be found and felt in the seed that still remains
at the heart of every real Christmas tree.
The decorating of the tree is something that can be enjoyed and made real,
and can be the actual time and moment when Christmas begins-
when a family gathers together and unpacks all the decorations
that they have been saving to use for a whole twelve months-
it can be the cue and the first note that makes your
festive and hopeful heart sing.
For children, it is something that they will always remember
and look forward to all their lives, and it will forever
bring back happy memories for them, and remind them of the real meaning
and importance of why we do what we do;
for adults, the Christmas tree- everything about it-
can be just what they need to give them back something
they may have forgotten, and which they have been missing;
for everyone, Christmas, and a Christmas tree especially,
can be more and can mean more,
and can only feel the way that it does at this time of the year,
and it can be a way of looking forward and looking back in synchronicity,
feeling a part of something already existing,
and also of something brand new.
For the lucky ones who have the real Christmas present every day,
all year round, of having a family around them who they love
and who loves them in return, Christmas can be exhilarating,
invigorating, thrilling, and the most wonderful blessing.
This time of the year means a lot to me.
To me, Christmas is more than a season of gifts and presents
and buying the most, it is about giving and receiving a part of yourself,
a part of someone who means a lot to you, who you love,
and care about unconditionally.
This time of the year means keeping everyone as close to you
as they can possibly be.
To me, Christmas is about coming together
and gathering around what we all share,
and there is no greater thing to assemble around
than a beautiful, and breathtaking, Christmas tree.
Moving on.
Putting the past behind me.
Thinking about the future.
No regrets.
Feeling hopeful.
Feeling human.
The bouquet of flowers is still in the hotel room,
where it will forever stay.
The moment we left it there and walked away,
what we had was gone, what we built,
and once were able to keep afloat
and sail the waves of uncertainty
was lost at sea-
even though there was a time for us both
that we looked at each other and said we were sure.
What we had was doomed to fail from the first minute,
and it instantly spiraled out of our control,
until we both knew our future together was uncertain.
Everything was good, until it wasn’t.
We could say anything to each other, until we couldn’t.
I never wanted it to end this way, ever-
not in my darkest and intense of nightmares;
I never wanted to feel such pain, ever-
not in the darkest hours of my despair.
This is my way of moving forward.
This is my way of stranding the bad memories that I have,
forgetting about them, leaving them, and sailing away.
This is my way of being rid of the poison in my heart,
and being cured.
This is my way of closing the door for the last time,
and leaving behind forever the forgotten bouquet.
The weather is so beautiful;
the hours of the day feel like they are racing away at a marathon pace;
there is a silence, and a stillness in the summer air,
save for the sweet dusk chorus of birds tweeting and chirping all-around.
Even though I feel tired in body, I feel alive in mind,
I feel good in spirit, I feel wondrous, I feel jovial, I feel hopeful.
For the first time in a long time, I feel the wall of uncertainty
crumble and fall to rubble and dust;
for the first time in my life, I feel like I can lower my guard,
take a chance, open up, put all my faith in trust.
We take people for granted,
we take our families for granted,
we take our planet for granted;
we forget, sometimes, that no one is perfect-
we wish people were, we wish our fantasies were our reality,
but that is human nature:
we look at the paradise planet that we are blessed to live on,
that has its own heart, engine, mind, speed, and momentum-
the manifestation of a miracle, in perfect balance with itself-
and we wish that we could all be so easily accepting of differences
and change, and we wish that we could create something
that might stand the test of time, as Earth has-
something built to endure.
To me, every day is Earth Day.
Everyday I feel lucky to be alive, in good health,
and able to express myself in any way that I wish-
especially when I think of what it is like
for some people on planet Earth
who are not as lucky as I am, who are not as fortunate,
who never had the start, the upbringing, the foundation,
and the family that I have;
to someone who lives in a war-zone,
or in a totalitarian society, looking from the outside in at my life,
they would think that I were someone who lived
without a worry in the world,
someone who lives in a constant state of bliss-
with all the fruits and gifts of modern-life in the world
at his finger tips.
I wish it were so.
I may be spoilt in one sense of the word,
but I genuinely feel wanting in another:
I am like a hard-back book that remains closed most of the time,
and the only part of me that people see is the dust-cover.
We build. We tear down.
We bring together. We destroy.
In my opinion, we need to step back
and live along-side our planetary parent,
leave and savour what is meant to be there
and what was there long before our species
could even walk on two feet,
let alone think about the well-being of others,
communicate and talk.
We need to realise that coexistence
is the most important prerequisite for peace and sustainability;
if we were to do so, then we would rise above our problems
and our differences, grow wings,
and feel as free and unhindered as a hawk.
Our life, all of our lives,
would be so much simpler if we could just allow ourselves
to go where the signs of life tell us to go,
to see a direction to proceed and go with all our heart that way.
Earth, our home, is a testament to order, chaos,
experimentation, what you can achieve if you are willing
to put the time and the effort into something,
no matter the sacrifices that you sometimes have to make.
I just wanted to take the time to thank the planet of our birth
for all that she has blessed us with;
and to everyone, I just want to say a Happy Earth Day!
Guitar pick poised; baton raised;
recalling that first note and how it is phrased.
A moment when the real world stops and turns into ‘Wonderland’,
as if you are standing in a desert being consumed by quicksand:
that moment when you, your art, your passion, your love,
become like the hand that perfectly fits the glove;
that moment when you- the maestro, the architect, the creator, the inventor-
become a god, a master, a hopeful machine of a world with you at the centre.
You are the DJ; you are the conductor;
you are the one that everyone has been waiting for.
In the beginning you create the rules, and tease what is yet to come;
and while you have your orchestra and audiences undivided attention,
you take them back in time with you to the dawn of your awakening-
that time when the world was new, and you didn’t want to miss a thing.
But then you stop, then you face them, then you convey to them the truth:
you tell them what happened when you put the last card on your house of cards’ roof.
You resight; you reinvite; you rebuild, as if you were rebuilding the entire world-
you remind them that there is always hope, even after your reality has been unfurled.
You take them on a journey with you that seems to have no end:
a journey where you can be who you are, and you no longer have to pretend.
However, when the end does come, it is over before you know it-
the people who were so engrossed in you have returned to their lives and split.
Where do you go when your orchestra, band, audience, and fan’s leave:
back to your own words, music; book cover, or album sleeve?
Or, do you go back to where it all started;
back to where inspiration first imparted;
back to the beginning; back to the big bang:
back to the moment when you first played, loved, wrote, and sang.
The Life, the Light, the Tears, of the Poet of the Sphere 