A fresh start

From open sores my lifeblood seeps

Draining down into spaces between

Here, there and Neverwhere

Emptying out the filth

Purging me of you, of us

Of all that could have been

A fresh start, somewhere between

Here, there and everywhere

These veins flow endlessly

Leaving behind the memory of you

-Jason B

Immortalized

Spilled ink on paper

Remnants of days filled with memories of you

Memories that bled joy and sorrow

A lifetimes worth of feeling trapped within

Like old stone weathered by storm

This is how I remember you

Like roots of Ancient trees

Old Gods, unseeing

Seeped into every inch of me

Immortalized

-Jason B

 

Finding a light within the darkness

We are all of us searching for something to light up the darkness we carry around inside of us.

For some people they find that light within another person, within family, within community or within the greater cause of a nation.

For others it is found within the works of others, the solace of a book or piece of music.

There are some who find the light only when they are creating something themselves.

Putting pen to paper, bleeding ink into skin, feeling the warmth of wood being shaped into something of beauty, there are a myriad of avenues Humans have gone down to expend this inner energy we find ourselves carrying within to bring forth something new into the world.

Every single one of these ways of finding the light is of value, and we must not allow anyone or anything to take away the thing which helps us illuminate the darkness.

So fight with all your heart and spirit to keep them alive. They are what will guide us forward into the future.

David Whyte- Thoughts on love

We name mostly in order to control but what is worth loving does not want to be held within the bounds of too narrow a calling.

In many ways love has already named us before we can even begin to speak back to it, before we can utter the right words or understand what has happened to us or is continuing to happen to us: an invitation to the most difficult art of all, to love without naming at all.

-David Whyte consolations