You are currently browsing the tag archive for the ‘special’ tag.
Something special,
something wonderful;
someone beautiful,
someone inspirational;
something invoking,
something flowing;
someone there,
someone who is like air.
Everything has an origin;
everyone has a birth;
everything and anything can be a win;
everyone is a product of the Earth.
Everything is a window;
everyone is a walking and talking autobiography;
everything can tell you what you want to know;
everyone has the right to be happy.
Something unexpected;
someone addictive;
something you have known and have held on to since you were kid;
someone who you enjoy, love, live, think about,
share, have to hold, and jive with;
something outrageous;
someone gifted;
something dangerous;
someone who feeds on life,
like the world relies on a constant charge from a power-grid.
Everything is multi-cultural;
everyone, at who and what they know they are, is a natural;
everything is fragile;
everyone is renewable,
and they can be someone,
and something, special.
Flash! Bang!
Light and sound!
In the dark there is a beautiful and magic explosion of colour-
like a supernova, or a cosmic strand that you pull down from above
that makes you rise off the ground;
or like a rainbow shattering and showering the world,
as it lights up the sky with dazzling and spectacular sights,
and mesmerizing sounds that take you back in time
to memories of you when you were a child looking up at the stars
and then being amazed and held in wonder by sparks of magic
that remind you of the thoughts that go through your mind every second-
you couldn’t replace those moments even if you were to try,
you couldn’t feel any more special
unless you had felt and been touched by the hand of heaven.
The only thing that I can compare to the sight of fireworks
exploding above me in the dark night sky,
is the sight, the sound, the feeling, the heart-pounding sensation
and intoxication of being in love-
because when you are in love your heart feels like a firework
exploding and making you feel like you have been transformed
into a constellation of stars,
and as endless and infinite as the minds eye;
and you only hear and see that one person in the crowd,
because everything and everyone else is just a buzz.
I see the lights;
I feel the vibrations;
I fly as high as a kite;
I walk with the protection of what I know for sure, and what is for real;
and I run gladly with a fever,
as if I were carrying a life-changing contagion.
I put my hand to my chest and I feel deep love, and deep pride-
like an American celebrating the freedom and independence
they are gifted and guaranteed, and which every American remembers
and celebrates every year on the 4th of July.
I feel deep love and I do not mind that that love
sometimes makes me feel intensely, and at times it can even hurt,
because what it means to see, experience, live, and love,
looks and feels as magic and wondrous as exploding fireworks.
From the day we are born,
we have good days and we have bad days,
from the first tear that we cry,
we shed tears of sadness and tears of joy,
from the first time that we are put to bed by our parents
and we fall asleep,
everything is new, everything is a daze,
from the first thing that we hold tightly in our hands-
whether it be someone’s finger, or a toy-
we all become attached,
we are all matched,
we all discover something important,
we are all running a race from the front,
and we are all setting our own pace
that will always be different.
We are all born with one special and important gift from day one;
we are all children of the Earth, the moon, and the sun;
we are all born with the gift of our life,
whatever that consists of, and whatever it will grow to become;
we are all brothers, sisters, daughters, and sons.
Every new day can be, should be, will be,
more beautiful than the last as long as you remember
that you are not alone and will never be alone;
every new phase that comes to pass
is the start of a brand new cycle that always takes you
where you need to go and then returns you home.
We all speak more languages than one or many we are knowingly taught,
but those communicative methods are those that are instinctive
and silently spoken, and not recognised
unless you are perhaps scrutinised by a psychotherapist,
or a body-language expert.
Sunny days are the best;
cloudy days are the days when we think and rest;
hot summer days make us all feel energised and great;
cold winter days make us all want to wrap ourselves up tight.
No matter what you do, live every day.
No matter what is happening to you,
or what you are going through,
don’t ever allow yourself to be shackled-
promise yourself to always act and be free.
No matter what time it is, or who you are with,
it always matters what you say.
No matter if things don’t always go as you planned,
just take a breath, go forward,
and say under your breath,
or outloud so everyone can hear,
in your best french accent:
‘c’est la vie’.
As pure as water from a stream,
as clear as a colour that stands out in a dream,
as resonant as a pin drop in a silent room,
as limitless as the stars that shine,
and sound like a vast orchestra playing in-tune.
As beautiful as a raindrop,
as light as a cloud,
as full of stories as a library or a book shop,
as numerous and varied as the faces of people in a crowd.
As peaceful as a gallery,
as blissful as a boat ride down a river,
as special as a single, beautiful, line of poetry,
as unpredictable as the weather.
As lightening as a joke,
as interesting as a mystery,
as surrounding as a blanket or a cloak,
as evolving and chaning as the life of a tree.
As complicated as a person,
as stimulating as a question,
as enrapturing as being in love and being loved by someone,
as revealing as an exhibition.
As perfect as a kiss,
as epic as a journey,
as precious as a wish,
as deep as a seed of self-discovery.
As strong as a parents bond,
as tender as a babies touch,
as diverse as the life that you may find in a pond,
as amazing as a gift given and one received
that will always mean so much.
As rich as the colours that can be seen under the sea,
as mystical as a sixth sense,
as heavenly as life on Earth can ever be.
As we live and experience things
that go beyond our limited understanding
we glimpse, even if it is for a fraction of a second
or within a brief flash of light,
life’s unparalleled, phenomenal, beautiful, perfect,
quintessence.
You saved me as soon as I met you,
you caught me as I fell,
you raised me up from the gloom,
you made me come out of my shell.
A hero doesn’t always need a suit,
a hero doesn’t always need a name,
a hero can give you something to listen to
when you have been spending a lot of you time
having the rest of the world on mute,
a hero can be someone who saves you every day
again and again.
You saw me instantly for who I was,
you accepted me for all my flaws,
you embraced everything I gave
and gave back to me the most incredible love,
you created doors where there were only walls.
A hero is always there when they are needed,
a hero is constantly on a journey,
a hero can be any age, in any walk of life-
a hero can be a teacher, policeman or a policewoman,
a carer, an artist, a writer, a friend-
and the most unique, but humble, unbelievable,
and special person you have ever met,
because they can always lift you up and show you
things you can’t see.
You were like a burst of beautiful light from the sky,
you carried me far and away like a kite on the wind,
you would give you last dollar to anyone in need,
because you are so generous, and because you are kind-
you cared for me when one person to hold me
and never let me go was all that I wanted.
A hero has super-powers,
but sometimes not those that you would expect,
and to see them for how incredible and super they are
you have to see them for what they are.
A hero knows you and would never forget you.
A hero would never take you for granted
and would always see you and describe you as a star.
A hero is a hero no matter where they are-
sometimes they don’t even realize that they are a hero,
because they are who they are, and they just do what they do.
You make me smile every day.
You have saved me countless times since we met,
in more ways than you will ever know.
You fill me with hope, and when I am with you I am unafraid.
You are untouchable, you are bullet-proof.
You are a dream come true, you are my hero.
A picture to remember us by,
a photo to look back on
and relive the happy memory
of a shared experience and a shared time;
a shell from the beach where two people used to walk
hand in hand and barefoot in the soft wet sand;
a ticket stub from a trip to the cinema you took with someone
to see a great film late at night;
an old receipt from your favourite restaurant,
a birthday card, a letter, a message-
a tangible memento that you can still feel
and still remember when and where and why and with whom
this meaningful and special thing to you
became a memento to you, and became so important to you
because of its connection with that someone that effected you
and always will, or because it just reminds you of the days
when you and your life were in their prime,
and everything felt perfect and right.
When times get bad,
when the waves of the sea of reality get rough,
when instead of looking forward you want to look back,
when you want to appreciate something in all it’s greatness,
when you want to remember the instant when you first fell in love,
when you want to go for a walk in the park of a relationship
when things were at their best,
when you are stuck inside on a rainy,
it’s good to take out and look at things-
things that may be spread all over your house
in places where you can constantly look to and know they are there,
things you always carry around with you in your pocket,
or things that you have collected together in a scrapbook for yourself
to look at and remember-
and that is why it is so important to keep what you can,
and don’t throw everything away.
I think photo-albums are amazing;
I think keeping a diary or writing in a journal is a fantastic thing to do,
and I think it is a brilliant way to record days, events,
and recollections of moments in your life;
I think a scrapbook is the best thing to start with a child
when they are just beginning to understand why certain things
and certain times mean more to us than others,
and why certain people constantly pop-up in the memories we have
and we return to, because it teaches them early-on,
and will remind them every time and always,
why we replay and know all the lyrics to the songs we remember and sing,
and that everyone can live on, as can we, after we die.
It’s sometimes only when we are alone
and looking for some reassurance about something
that we choose to look, re-read, remember, recall,
where something in our possession originated from
and who gave it to us-
it could be a faded photo;
it could be a worn-out piece of paper
with someone’s unique handwriting on it;
a t-shirt that you refuse to wash
because it still has someone’s smell on it;
it could be a precious, special, memory,
from which there are no souvenirs, or photos,
or anything that you can ever hold in your hand,
because it was so brief, instantaneous,
and because you simply did just have to be there to understand
the true meaning of the moment-
they are the very best, and they are the incredible,
and irreplaceable, mementos.