Magic

Magic is all around us. I repeat, it is all around us. It's just been given different names. The way water turns into water vapour is called evaporation. The way we fly is called aerodynamics. the way we live is called anthropology. We have let science take over almost every facet of our lives. Not that that's a bad thing, but...lets face it, we are lost, and we have lost. We are lost in our own worlds of technology, drowning in all the latest advancements in communications, learning, development, it never ends. We have lost sight of the magic we once had. Even if we didn't know, we had to guts to believe in it. Now, we never do anything without proof that it works.

Why? Where is the faith? Where is the belief? where is the magic? My father used to tell me that he drank milk everyday as a boy to help him grow up strong. Now everyone is afraid to drink milk. Why? Because someone found something bad in ONE product. Then all the other skeletons were expunged.

No one has faith anymore. No one believes in anything anymore. That's what I miss.

He's staring at a candle. two candles. actually. He lighes one first, then the other. Their side by side, twin flames reaching upwards in the darkness. He watches as the flames seem almost attracted to each other, eventually creating one bigger than the sum of both seperately.

He found out something about her, something he should have figured out a long time beforehand. It wasn't a bad thing, but something he knows he should have asked about right from the beginning. It's not a bad thing per say. But he's kicking himself anyway.

Why? Ask him.

Cheers and Waiting,

Healing Poet

Requiem

Every word I write today, I write with one intent in mind.

The warm summer evening just draws to a
Close, shimmers cross the water like golden
Cloves. Warm sand a sultry, yet vibrant hue,
Much like ochre under a sky a dark blue.

Even as the last rays of sunshine leaves
Her face, her features still bright, still retain
Their grace. Her beauty so bright, when the sun
has set, But there's still light, the first time we met.

She's making footsteps in the soft, warm sand
I make my own prints, make them with my hand
She joins me in my quest, she puts her hands in
My prints, we laugh alot, through heartfelt grins.

As the laughter dies down, the mood shifts so
slowly. The humour gives way, to new feelings
glowing. Let the feelings set in. We see
Each other, and so we speak from within.

All our secrets, fantasies, our goals and
Our dreams, all layed out, for the other to
See. What happens now, if I'll play it safe.
Well, we'll see. Because I'm willing to wait.

Cheers and Waiting
Healing Poet

Journey

I walked this path I set for myself.
without chains, without inhibitions.

Without regrets.

Things I brought with me
A hand to hold, so I knew I was not alone
A consequence, for I knew no one could face them with me
A bit of my past, to remind me of my fears
A bit of my future, to remind me of my courage
A promise, to remind me to return
A broken heart, to remind me why I left
My thoughts, to show me how to follow my head
My feelings, to show me how to follow my heart
My pain, to help me when I was blinded by the light
My hope, to help me when all other lights went out
My tasks, to keep my feet on the ground
My goals, to help me dream

A radiant smile, to bind it all together.

Cheers and waiting,
Healing Poet

Helping to hit me down, I will fall.
Over and over again, pick myself up.
Lonely, again and again. I will
Deepen my scars. Deepen the pain. See
Me, See the pain on my face.
Ever so sad, ever so determined
Trying again and again, telling myself
I will make it, telling my self I won't
Let go. Telling myself I will hold on.
Leaving me behind, I will push on.
I will make of this what I can. I will
Make of this a new dawn for me.
Broken once, I will collect the pieces
Ever so gently, piece by piece
Take each one and hold it to my chest
Take each one and like a jigsaw puzzle
Ever so softly, fit together, a shattered
Reminder of what once was.

Farewell. I go to seek the great perhaps

Cheers and waiting

Healing Poet

Story

Note: The following story and names included are entirely fictional.

The boy is dressed for a date. a pressed white button down shirt, nicely ironed pants. He's carrying a bouquet of flowers. He has an unreadable expression on his face. Happiness? Nervousness? Anxiety? You can't really tell.

He reaches the place where he is meeting the girl. A big stone tablet that's been there for sometime. words etched into the stone, well wishes and so on and so forth. He walks through a set of wrought iron gates, and walks along the path. He soon decides to take a shortcut and walks across the grass to the location. Finally, he reaches the meeting spot. She's already there. It seems like she's been there forever, waiting for him to arrive. She looks like how he always remembers her. Flowing shoulder length brown hair, tan skin from being out in the sun, warm brown eyes and a cute button nose.

"Hey there Auguste, I uhm...I brought this for you." He holds up the bouquet he brought. She stays silent, almost as if she is just as nervous as he is, too scared to say anything. He waits a few seconds. "I'll just...put it down here then." He places it on the stone tablet.

"I came here today because I need someone to talk to, and you are by far, the best listener I ever knew. Dad's kicked me out, mom's argueing with dad over his decision to kick me out. I'm crashing at a friend's place, but I'm not sure what I can do now".

She doesn't say anything, just looks at him. He knows what she's thinking. "I tried apologizing, yes. But he's in firewall mode. He needs to cool down first, then I'll go back."

He sighs. Just by listening, she helped him to see the solution to the problem. She had a talent for that. "Life has been...tough. It's hard to explain. Ever since...you know...it's been hard to adjust. I find myself dreaming during the day when I should be awake, and having nightmares when I should be asleep. I don't know anything anymore.

Again, out of respect, she remains silent. "Look you don't have to say anything. I just needed to confide in someone. And I know I can trust you.......Thank you. For everything." He places his hand on the tablet, remembering the last time he etched something into it. He remembers every carving and every fault of the tablet. He should know. He carved it himself. For a long time, he just stands there, remembering everything.

Finally, he places the bouquet infront of her and walks away from the place, smiling. She's smiling too, only her's is frozen in the picture of her. The last picture to ever be taken of her. It stands directly infront of the tablet. It reads

Auguste P. Libere

April 15, 1983 - April 22, 2005

Loved by all, most by one.

"I want you to live without regret"

He's walking away now, it seems as though a great weight has been lifted from his shoulders. He whistles lightly as he walks across the grass, and out the wrought iron gates.

"I never wished for the stars, only someone to watch them with"
Cheers and waiting,
Healing Poet

Catharsis?

Why is it that almost everything I do causes me or someone else pain?

Oh thats right, because I'm an idiot. I'm a stupid, tactless, masochistic idiot.

I understand why you had to say that. Not that I hate you for saying that, more I hate myself for my inability to have said anything more meaningful when you said that.

Please understand why I do what I do/I did/I'm doing. Its a part of me that has remained constant throughout my life, either because I have been unable to change it or because I don't want to change it. I'm still not sure which. In situations like these, the line seems to blur between the two.

It might be a phase, I don't know. I really don't know. I suppose only time will tell.

Enjoy yourself by the way :) I'm not writing this to stop you. Its just a way of me to get rid of some angst :P

PS I wouldn't be surprised if you read this and laughed :P

Cheers and waiting
Healing Poet