The Mirage of the Ego

The ego can only recognize ego …

The Mirage of the Ego

Two tired, lonely, and thirsty egos
Met at a cool spring
In the middle of the desert
The spring was surrounded
With a thick layer of rose petals
For weary travelers to sleep upon
After they drank
From the pristine water
The two egos departed
From that sacred site together
Yet both remained
Lonely, tired, and thirsty
All they could see
Was each other

 

Poets – Ha!

Is a poet a poet
after they write
their first poem?
Or does a poet become a poet
in the moment God strikes them
with a concept so illuminating
that is has to be written?
Or is it in the moments long before
when there’s no inspiration,
only desperation?

Is it when academia decides?
No. None of these decide!

A poet becomes a poet
each and every time they swim
where love abides
Walking through minds and hearts
with words 
drenched – dripping
in the Great Love beyond pronunciation
as we smile, laugh or cry
Being refreshed by the Oasis of love
a poet brings
from so many things

the poets will never describe

 

Looking Back Upon Forevers

Looking back
upon forever
He really thought
It would be forever
every time

Looking forward
upon forever
He still thinks
It will be forever
every time

Being here, right now
He’s enjoying
the part of forever
he’s in
In this time
this moment
this breath 

We’re all time travelers
caught in the forevers
when it hurt the most
and felt the best
Carrying our forevers
Together 

They Made Me This Way

Sharing like it was a dream
When I share it, I awaken
memories that others live with,
haunting them of what was done to me

Many excuses to justify what they knew
Many substances to numb what they didn’t
Many expiration dates way past due
It was a void, a dream, a past

The pillow I used as a child
is full 
of used up tears,
angry screams asking “Why?!”
And angry prayers asking “When?!”

Each memory I still feel
Each memory I still forget
Each memory unlocks more clues
Each memory is the same

I was more present than all of them
I was new
I was trusting
I was only a child

Walking in the morning as an adult,
wandering into the horizon
with no thoughts –
no destination

I was looking for me
For that little boy from many years ago
I wanted to let him know
that we’re going to be okay

If they didn’t make us this way
we may not have saw
there is another 
way – a different path
Extremes make visibility clearer

The pain wants to create clones
More generations of pain makers
More cycles of dream takers
That crossroad came and we walked

The path towards the abyss was tempting
It was where everyone else was facing
It was normal
It was home

We walked away from the zombies,
the substances, the destruction,
and walked back to our heart

Little boy from years ago,
know that we will be different
We will live with honor
We will live with truth

What made them that way?
Little boy, now a man,
together we still don’t understand

A way they made us,
not by walking it,
by not walking it,
by not talking about it,
the way was revealed

They are our precious teachers
for they show us how not to be
and taught us everything we’re not
They made us this way

A way, a path, a direction to take
leading us closer to our hearts –
how the Creator intended us to be

All those labeled as heroes or villains
when asked how they got there
have the same answer
in the form of a question –
How else would you have turned out if you were me?

Keep Painting and Stop Tainting

People are always painting pictures of other people and want you to take the picture they painted and hang it up in your house so you can have a bad opinion about another person, or change your mind about your positive experiences with another person. Those aren’t even paintings, they’re tainting. Just old, contrived collages of opinions that have nothing to do with how that person is now, or what God will grow that person into.
Here’s the deal, if you know someone long enough you will have both positive and negative experiences with them, and they with you. We all have our days. We all fall. We all make mistakes. We have all hurt someone and we have all been hurt. Bypass all that and just keep working on you.
Keep painting and stop tainting. Paint better and better pictures of yourself and let God hang those pictures in God’s house.