May we raise our sons and daughters to only speak words that they feel within. Too often life is perceived as a series of actions in a drama and so people ignore the fact that those around them are human, not paid actors. May my daughter grow up in a world where she feels free to speak or write her truths without fear of being perceived as less than. May all around her recognize her awareness of life and respect her humanity. May my son learn the importance of listening in a society where all men do is speak. Where too many men speak incalculable volumes at decibels loud enough for rock concerts, may my son grow to also listen and speak when he finds something truly worth saying. May our children reflect upon their actions and lead lives of consideration for those surrounding them so that perhaps one day hearts will mend, and souls will fill to the brim with happiness.
He has the type of smile that makes you want to reflect his joy back onto him. A bit rough around the edges, but such sweetness emanates from his tender actions and it makes you want to thaw.
What I saw, was more than enough to shoot through the heart like a 9mm piercing right where all that I was used to be. With hands held, the allusion to more seeded into the mind. Now these thoughts will remain, forever a created memory.
Sometimes the power lies in your fingertips as they caress the darkness inside of you. Your fingers caress the darkness surrounding you and turn it into a vague light—a slight illumination of demons and angels housed inside your soul. Let the night breeze guide you into a spell that you sing like a lullaby for the flowers growing around your foundation. The silver glints in the candlelight as you let the building catch fire so that from the flames, your spirit can be reborn. Rise from candlelight as the candle burns out and smokes itself into the nothingness unrecognizable as air. Light irradiates from you and warms the frayed buildings that housed your beliefs in between the night sky. How perfect did your shell burn into and outwards throughout the night.
Without even knowing what she’s made for, that stranger caught her essence in the air like the scent of mango flowers often confused for jasmine flowers in spring evenings.
They’re all moths perched on a leaf as they wait for nightfall only so they could fly through your window and orbit the artificial light.
You will always know what’s true and what’s transient. Your heart will tell you. So choose the memories you make wisely lest you’d like to indulge sadness.