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There is no sound,
there is nothing to be heard;
there is a couple sitting at the next table from me
in the cafe I am in
talking completely and fully without words,
and the beauty of their silent conversation,
even though I do not mean to pry in any way,
has me not only lost for words
but also lost in thought,
and I can feel my heart start to pound.

I can’t hear a word that they are saying to each other,
but I know that that is because their voice
is not meant to be heard by me-
they could be saying anything to each other-
but what I do know, just from observing the looks
that they are giving each other,
is that this couple is in love;
I recognize and I have seen this unmistakable,
silent, and mutual, connection of spirit
in myself and in others a thousand times,
and it never fails to read, at least to me,
like the most beautiful, natural, and special, poetry.

The eye-contact, lip-movements, and hand-gestures and signs,
they are making is entrancing,
the way they are so compelled and in-awe of each other
and do not need or want the attenton of anyone else
in the entire world is mesmerising-
I am not afraid of confessing.

I wanted to be a part of their conversation,
but I also, secretly, did find it cool that I and everyone
was an outsider because we couldn’t understand their code
and are not meant to.
I must admit I did smile at the thought of them
having so much privacy, and the gift of one to one communication
without the potential of being evesdropped on.

They looked like they only had time
and only had eyes for each other,
and that truly touched my heart and made me happy-
the joy they were feeling about talking to each other,
sitting facing each other, of one mind and intent,
was noticeable, palpable, and wonderful to see.
Communication on every level of society and by every means
all around the world in a million different ways
has always fascinated me,
and the gift of being able to reach out to someone,
especially someone that you love, in some way, in any way,
no matter who you are or how it is done
never ceases to fascinate me.

The couple that I was watching had their own language,
their own code of communication that even I could see,
surpassed the language they had been taught
to share what they want to say;
and it occurred to me after I left the cafe
that they have a code, everyone has a code,
and even I have mine-
my language, my code, is that of patterns and poetry;
and I also realised that if I or anyone wants to be a part
of any conversation, I and they have to learn and read
what is being said all around us every second,
sometimes silently without a sound,
because the answer to what is being said is
all in the signs.

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A red pencil left on a counter.
A takeaway coffee cup with my name written on it
and written in red ink.
Coincidence? I think not!
A much needed intake of inspiration
and a sign for me that could not be more blatant,
nor more louder.
A question to ponder;
a truth to muse about;
a rhyme to write while I am enjoying my favourite drink.
It always amazes me and invigorates me
when I see things of meaning and clues of a great mystery-
and believe me, when I do look, I see a lot.

Every day is different.
Even when you come back to the same place
you have been countless times before,
you and it are always different-
as if the experience, the sound, the smell,
the air, the feeling, the taste,
but what never changes and only feels even more amazing every time
is the return of energy that you get back
for all the time and the currency of thought
and meditation that you have spent.

A heart beats to be heard.
A mind thinks to be stretched.
A voice speaks to be the outward expression
of a vastly deeper reality of what we see around us
than can ever be said completely, concisely, and clearly,
with any combination or any length of words.
An imagination formulates, constructs,
and imagines infinite worlds of wonder
than life, as beautiful, surprising, and random,
sometimes as it is could ever match.

I am seeing red.
This ‘red effect’ happens to me from time to time.
I start seeing this strong and vibrant of all the colours
worn by almost everyone and I see it for the first time
in and on things I look at all the time,
but for some reason I missed the red before-
like when you hear something said by someone
and you say to yourself: ‘Did I hear correctly?
Is that really what they said?’

Colours have meaning.
Colours show mood.
Colours are revealing.
Colours are an important clue.
Colour is something to take notice of.
Colour is deliberate.
Colour is something that can tell you what you need to know-
whether you are looking at or reading the patterns of the stars
that are always there- even when there is blue sky,
or cloud in the sky above.
Colour is more than colour.
And seeing red, for me-
coincidence? I think not!

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We were born of the Earth.
The Earth was born in space.
The sun was born of our galaxy the Milky Way.
The galaxy was born of the universe.
The universe was born of a Big Bang,
a moment of creation, a flash of transformation,
a phenomenal explosion of life-defining energy.

Everything is made and patterned and destined
to live and endure within the environment
in which they are born into:
a fish needs water to stay alive,
a human needs light, air, land,
something in their life to anchor them,
to keep them sane, to give their lives meaning-
the planets of our solar system give meaning to the Earth,
and the Earth gives meaning to you.
When two compatible individuals connect and come together
a new life is born that irrevocably changes
the face of everything that has come before it,
emerging into a world perfect for it
but which it must continuously learn to adapt to living in,
and living with, that it can’t control,
that it must struggle to understand,
that looks simple from the outset,
but which is more complex than they could ever conceive-
just like being able to walk and stand up straight
without falling over, constantly fighting,
and yet defined by, an invisible force;
just like looking back over a persons life,
seeing the choices that they made, and asking:
how much of what happens in something’s existence
or someone’s life is planned?

Patterns are repeated over and over again in our universe,
on our planet, in our lives- day after day, decade after decade,
century after century, millennia after millennia-
patterns of behaviour, echoes of design, sustaining structures,
that have stood, spread, and are prevalent in a billion different,
but connected, configurations, in a thousand galaxies
throughout the universe-
and they repeat, because they have evolved a way of maintaining balance
and equilibrium with the life source that created the universe
and seeded all things with a purpose, a power,
a path, a pattern to follow,
that we are all destined to find and make work.

No one will ever know all the answers-
anyone who says that they know everything, knows nothing;
but what everybody can know, if they are willing to search
and understand, is that patterns are there:
we were born, we all live our lives,
the galaxy exists, the universe and all life came into being,
for a reason-
a reason bigger and more important than all of us,
but the essential nature, components, spirit, final design,
can be seen everyday in everything and everyone on our planet
when you look for and when you see repeating patterns.

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