live

Infinite Infant

Sat in the stormy dark morning. Nothing known, no covering of soul, nor flesh, just as I came to this world. Yet different in times weary marks left.

Feeling, all that life has been, could have been. All the dreams and hopes.
All there is now, is now. The rain on the window. I think a lot about you sitting here.

The future used to be mine in its essence to see, I could sense it somehow. No longer so.

There is just, time.

Moving. Standing still. The same sun, the same moon, nothing changes. Over years and lifetime’s, all remains;

Infinitely unknown.

Sing To Us Still

We face ourselves to illiminate our woes, but what if we are trying to save ourselves from what ensures the picture of our own existence and that of Humanity?

The reason for which we abide is not always to confront, nor escape our trial or discomfort. The meaning and purpose of our lives and our place here is not only about us.

We may find ourselves doing things that we, or others, can make little sense of at times and I have found:

If I cannot escape perhaps I am not meant to, or just not at the time I think I should. If I cannot ‘break free’ from ‘my cross’ perhaps I am meant to pick it up and carry it to my end.

It is sacrifice, not always chosen. A thorn in our side – which keeps us human and maybe humble.

The reason and purpose are not always, even seldom, known.

I come to you with a word.
I come to you in this life.
The Universe is.

Apart and a part of all we hear.

She speaks, we speak

Sing to us still.

I.W.