Tag: Spiritual

My Heart’s Rights, Writes!

Word(s) play, speak of relative pun, plain but yet of fun, indicative but of a different perspective. Writes have meaning, rights of words verbatim, heartfelt prose tethered in tandem. Two or three gathered in the midst, exploits of a heart’s love story. My writes sow, of love rightly so, heartstrings and bow. In my youth, thoughts my soul did restrain, but in love’s reign, unshackled my heart does write. Rights given by love have no blight, heart to pen words of delight, unbound love, writes without plight. A heart with insight, writes freely not bound by rights, freedom corresponds with the intent to give sight. Whenever words descend, with no hesitation they arrest my heart, read me my rights. Inked soliloquy writes, my soul’s innermost, my heart conditioned with perceptive rights. Pen, oh penned, thy ink detains the rights of my soul, with no restraint I am free. In the court of opinions, of love my heart writes. In life, actions judge the rights of words, galvanized thoughts written bled of heart and soul. Love, oh love, what right have you to ask of my heart, in perpetuity writes that have bared my soul? But nevertheless, not my will, but love’s ingenuity ink does spill. My heart, released on its own recognizance, bear witness to the breadth of love’s cognitive writes!

WCR

Motivation’s Sway; its Inherent Way!

The rhythm of blues, could never sway love’s crimson ways. If violet hues are of blue, then rose petals would say of a heart true, I love you. If a closed off heart perceives, love is blind, then how of mine? A heart wide open to know, if love can’t truly see, why giddily are so many, willing to then blindly fall… into love? Must be its sway. If, tainted glass is only of a reduction in perspective, then, why are many hearts amazed? How a reflective perception could be a shift in one’s mood, to become a painted expression of love’s subtle nuances. Must be of its way. If light shining, will always overwhelm darkness, leaving the darkness no way to overcome it? Then therefore, every heart’s innermost glow, likened to an incandescent lighthouse. Love’s solace of hope, beaming in the most darkened of moments. Must be to sway. They say, silent rivers run deep, but, this my heart has come to concede. Deep places won’t reveal itself, if one’s soul couldn’t fathom. Depth is a place of being, within a state of enlightenment. Swayed, knowing must be love the way!

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Just!

Dreamer, every heart is an innate dreamer. Some fairy tales, dream of falling in love, while daydreams, gaze within the possibility of being in love. But, for me and my heart, it doesn’t dream of being; faithful love is about conceding, to staying. Everyday, Just, fall in love again. You see, every morning, my dreams do come true. When, my heart kisses, upon the love of my sleeping beauty, to let it awaken my soul. And all day long, my heart races to the ball, slow dance with the love of my Cinderella. DJ, play another slow jam, this time, make it sweet. To Just, with one glance, heart concurs with soul; Just, let it happen, fall breathlessly. For those moments, when the day plays with the mind, to capture the imagination, it encounters much resistance. The elasticity in my heart not swayed, to Just, let thoughts have its way, with my soul. Mind over what matters, a heart in tatters, enamored with love that only flatters. Real love, knows how to hold your gaze just right, how to grip your heart tight. Your every breath, not putting up a fight; Just, waiting to exhale. The soul eclipsed by radiant light, the heart saying it Just might, fall again. Magic, that must be its charm, how love does what it does; does the soul no harm, when it takes you by the heart. And even though, again and again it makes you fall; do it again, give love its due. My heart, will never justify my soul; it vowed to forever be, love’s useful muse. But, before my love became, Just; my heart first had to concede, it Must, fall… again!

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Knock on Would!

When, love proves to your soul its true meaning, no heart, should ever instinctively knock Would. When, its enlightened breadth deepens your understanding, no knock off version of love, Would, ever be enough to sway a heart’s fundamental beliefs. So many hearts, carve their love in hopes and dreams, not realizing, the Would, becomes a symbolism, the act not becoming a euphemism. The commitment needs to be, to the love growing deeper, forever etched upon the depth of your soul? What will flourish profoundly, stands the test of time, proving, deep love will transcend time, and space. A heart, colliding with Would, never becomes love losing balance, but only spilling the essence of its beauty. Would, in of itself hollow, when its core intent has no inherent content, giving it context. Just, like how love resonates, Would, needs to echo verbatim, with its resounding tapestry. Rat-a-tat, why, must the dog chase the cat? A heart, never confident of its deepest breath, until the posture of its soul, exhales love’s heartfelt truth. That Would, by itself could never build love’s foundational bridge, if never tethered to something substantial. One’s inclination, just a feeling if not acted upon, the Would, having the potential, but the heart not willing to act. An expression of hope, Would, never accomplish anything, without faith empowering its purpose. A heart’s resilience, could never have the strength to knock down barriers, without it having the will that Would, make a tangible impression. Love, unapologetically pure, intentionally rooted, never a heart needing to, knock on Would!

WCR

Lost a Breath! 

The early years!

My heart, lost a breath, lost it within the depth of time, on it, sun doesn’t shine. I lost a breath, swept away by streams of love’s cascading breadth, deserting my heart within the sands of time. The remaining breaths of my soul, exhales now with the end in mind; how a moment in time, my breath I held. Oh, how I nurtured this breath, dedicated my soul to its purpose, kept its worth so close to my heart. But yet, now resting with the power to be, embraced within the heart of thee. So, my soul holds on to hopes, to dreams. My soul lost a breath, on the wings of love, it’s up and above the clouds, the only way to get there, fly on the wings of love. When, my heart takes its last breath, my soul won’t be at a loss, embracing my lost breath in love’s serenity. For, every lost breath is found, in peace like a river, finding its delight within love’s angelic hue. Every day, my soul senses something in the air, love breathing within the hollowness of my heart. Remnants of my beloved, hovers in the stillness, echoing the beauty of love’s quintessence. Along life’s journey, a heart full, inevitably loses a breath, for souls gasp when kindred. Heard it said, one can lose its mind, but, what does a mind have to do with it? When every breath you take, every step you make, love prevails. Baby steps, and with every deep breath, solace will confidently find; my cherished breath, nestled within love’s sublime. My heart, lost a breath, ascended to a celestial plane, but yet in me, its presence abides. Que sera, sera, what will be, will surely be!

WCR

Heart to Pen!

Now, doesn’t change the course of then. Love flowed then, but now the ink bleeds deeply; from heart to pen. Words could never be lost, for when love pricks one’s heart, inked words spill, baring innermost of one’s soul. The pages of one’s life, depth of one’s love, cascade to form textured chapters of a love story. What’s consequential, overwritten by moments inconsequential. Love composed, never embarrassed by what its heart-felt pen composes. By design, the tapestry of one’s heart, instrumental in revealing the imagery of one’s soul, the love mosaically imprinting. Deep love, doesn’t draw meaningless lines, even its most subtle portrayal, an intrinsic silhouette of the heart’s aura. Words penned meaningful, not inkling of a heart typical, exposed through love reciprocal. Consisting, consistent, naturally refined consistency; inking heart and soul. Penning thoughts, journaling one’s lived experience, texturizing the heart’s quintessential hue. Love moves, the soul it proves, but the heart it behoves; seep inked. For now, doesn’t change the course of then. Love flowing even then, now bleeds profusely, from heart to pen!

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Love, the Gravity!

Within its profound breadth, its gravity known, the heart breathless in its sublime, the soul speechless in its boundless rhapsody. Which heart can comprehend, the complexity of its deep breathlessness, the vast nature of love’s beauty? What soul can explain, how so profoundly it moves you to tears, then soothe your fears? How it touches you so deeply, to utterly take your breath? Who can boldly claim, they know how its presence lingers, in the still of the moment? Can anyone’s words articulate, how it weighs tenderly on one’s thoughts, then go rest gently on the heart, only to stir your soul? What heart can describe, how at one moment it leaves you gasping for air, but yet at the very same time, be the air you breathe? The magnitude of its gravity, consequential essence of character, the soul’s quintessential reprieve. Every heart, needs to understand the significance of its power, the sustaining substance of its existence. It’s not enough, for one’s soul to know its miraculous wonder, yet one’s heart not be provoked by the depth of its deepest meaning. The gravity, the prevailing breath that’s not just felt, but perceived, be wholeheartedly believed; meaningful. Hearts willing, what makes it transformative, souls tethered, makes it revolutionary. A love that shines like the sun, glistens like the stars. Reflective like that of the moonlight, hovering breathlessly within the stillness. Transcending the fabric of time, and space. Not even distance, changes the trajectory of its vantage point, alter the gravity of its destiny; to be!

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History, in Black and White! 

Love in black and white, portrayed with embedded color, shades of the heart, painted in its eclectic hue. Of people, of places, of things, imprints upon the canvas of the heart. What’s etched, within the pages of history; of what was, of what is, of what makes a consequential impression. Black and white by design, colorful in kind, brushed with the breadth of love’s artistic sublime, revealed by history’s endearing intent. Varying perspective, monochrome perception; never opposing principle, in love lensed reciprocal. Its beautiful color residing, within the space between; heart and soul. Love’s illustration, paints a vivid image, when shades of gray leaves one’s crimson heart, feeling black and blue. Love’s subtle beauty, colored outside the lines, love nevertheless, if it leaves one’s heart impressionable. Pastel colors, with shades of black and white, may seem somewhat bombastic, yet deeply fantastic. Black and white, life and death, hopes and dreams; textured humanity. Likened to that of a lamp distinguishable, burning bright love’s inextinguishable worth. In blackened moments, illuminates fluorescent white. Love’s tapestry, in living color, never pixelated black and white, but texturized historical!

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Song Inspired; She’s Like the Wind!

What’s a heart to do, when your breath is taken, when your mind is blown beyond words, being a shift in your soul’s perception. When within the proverbial forest, its sway leaves your soul panting; heart knowing at any moment, it’s another breathless encounter. What do you do, your heart trying to play it cool, thinking it’s a breeze, but every heartbeat bracing for its subtlety; not to be totally swept away, into the depth of its whirlwind. Like that of the wind, unbeknownst, her love poised to take your heart captive, she doesn’t know what’s being done. Wind, what’s your agenda, is it to alter my soul’s artificial intelligence of love? Like how the wind undulates, true love is naturally perceptible, perceptive especially. Its actions particular, the nature of its aura peculiar. Within your soul the knowing, I can feel it coming, in the air tonight; she’s like the wind. Fragrance of her love, her breath felt breathing into your soul, her presence feeling close, moving your heart in another daydream. Even at distance, proximity of her love tangible, your soul touched by love’s warm embrace. This I know, love hovers in the stillness of your soul, your heart anchored within a place of needing; tethered to love’s heartfelt truth. The question, living without her, would your heart go insane? Strength of her essence, capturing your gaze, taking you by the heart, leading you throughout the moonlight. What’s a heart to do, moved profoundly by its gentle gust, your soul, letting its gusto be… On the breadth of its allure, does the wings of my heart soar. Wind, tell it to my heart, am I the only one? Love, the convergence of forty years, but it doesn’t seem I was; just a fool to believe, she’s like the wind! 

She’s like the wind, a song by Patrick Swayze and Wendy Fraser. Released in 1987, on the soundtrack to the film Dirty Dancing.

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Wednesday Proverb; Consider Love!

With every encounter, give thought, how every brush against someone’s heart, how it paints a portrait of your soul. Consider it joy, that with every textured graze, love seeps to make the moment enlightened. Think it beautiful, seeing how love’s nature unfold, does it capture the heart with a breathless hold? Contemplate every decision, so the application of words leaves an engaged heart at ease. Consider the lilies, how its fragrance incentivizes the heart’s awareness. Search your heart when considering, from within will love seep, revealing the undeniable hue of its essence. Bear in mind, one’s heart is a mirrored reflection of one’s character. So therefore, be mindful of actions, they speak revealing the content of one’s soul, give context to the love texturized within. Every day, position your heart, where its posture can easily be repositioned, if needed. Whenever, to the heart lines seem blurred, the mind thinks why ponder, what provokes? Listen, to wisdom’s small still voice, it will always say; in all you, consider love!

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