Brick Brickwork Ruin from Pixabay

Fissures In The Path Shored Up

Finding and claiming yourself again.

Do you always feel less than complete?
Not sad.
Living in an open cut.
Using every second to squeeze out each drop of make and do.
Yet we don’t bleed.
On the edge.
Teetering softly.
Success at fingertips but sliding past just out of grasp.
Do we feign winning to fit in a mold?
Catch a wave, do what we’re told?
Not complying.
Stand and face the tide.
Strong gravity pulling and showing sensible, rational ways.
Still deciding against conforming.
Reside in the rough, accept the cut.
Consume heart, happiness, sight.


Arrested in breath sighing in pale moonlight.
Time is peeking.
Enduring somehow to give a hint of hope.
Grasping at a new expanding scope.
There in the dinge grows a flicker.


In the drifting breeze.
Coolness lights upon the weighted soul like feathered riches of precious gold.
Dancing with an answer.
Steps on a narrow stairway leading to a comforting glow.
The one sewn in youth remains.
Darkness all around.
Ramble through the thicket.
Thorns only scrape and teach.

Grab a fistful of sting and pain. Enjoy the sensation. Let the razor bite then find in the wound delight. Turn it with deliberate cause and make the form yours for purpose and success without pause.

Mold from mistakes our most wonderful teachers, our greatest triumphs. Be not besieged with former woes but gather each small morsel for present growth.

Struggle I with you this very moment. The conflict to move ahead, to find comfort and live at ease continues as a privilege and worthy fight.

Embrace the clash.
Work with and around the strife.

Thoughts for you and for me. Perhaps, are cheer and coach to remind you and I all is never lost and there stays a chance for redemption as well as excellence waiting for our effort.

For troubled souls seeking to find escape and solace, a glimpse of hope is given.

Where fear and indecision have taken us and run away with our goals and dreams we who will turn and face our past ways, learn from them, and change in direction shall not fret or be defeated any longer.

Be free of your self imposed limiting beliefs and live again.

Learn to fly in the happy clouds of revived dreams and love.

Bringing real feelings along with messages of inspiration and imagination to life. Awakening is the symptom of my infectious condition. Poetry is my condition.

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