There is holiness, kindness, beauty, evil, sweetness, coldness, the whole spectrum of feelings the whole potential within each of us.
It is up to us to cultivate what we want to cultivate, what we are strong enough to cultivate, what we choose and want to cultivate, to be, to become.
No matter what the world gives us.
Life. Life gives us inputs, wounds, flowers, whippings. visible or not, thorn or not my wings will forever exist. growing again and again, like those of a Phoenix.
They are me, such as my pain, my smile, my love, my life.
I believe in perfection. In perfection not being a thornless rose. In perfection as something that is personal, different for any of us. I believe in perfectless perfection. I believe in wrinkles and struggles, refining the aperfect perfection. I believe in the perfection of walking a path in which we believe, in perfection taking a road that’s not always the straight one.
I believe perfection is overrated, but dedication is not. I believe perfection kills the mind while passion ignites.
I believe the rain, wind storms and time might smear the “perfect” letters we write, but it in the end, they will only turn them into a masterpiece.
Something unique. Something unrepeatable Something perfect, as it was meant to be.
There is a special moment, when i do miss You. It is when i stop doing something working, writing, playing the piano, talking to someone, working on a project creating doing something.
It is as if you were there, beyond the temporary focus of my concentration. Every time this shift happens i turn around, i look for you to tell you about me to know about you to feel you near to give you nearness to share my life to gift you my day to greet Yours.
More and more You are the start of my any wish my shelter the daily medicine I do ingest to heal the mind vibrations and sometimes To heal my solitary soul
The evening is mild, yet cold a man, under the street light, whistles at the sound of a tune it is an old song, a tune that seems to come from a distant time.
We do not even know why, but we stop, our every thought slowly fades, the ones we thought we couldn’t delay the ones that seemed so important.
We stop, we do pretend we are waiting for someone, we smile at ourselves, so silly, but we stop. Not a word, we do smile, stare, and listen. We stand there and we watch the man: a silhouette, his whistling, it flies us in a distant world.
Breathing, inhaling, we feel small there is a tear wanting to wet our eyes. We do feel small, very small small like those tears, reflecting the city lights. We do feel that small and it makes us feel like giants.
His music fades, a girl approaches the man. The young man stops whistling, he stops singing, he smiles.
He takes her hand, not a word, but a smile and a kiss. Like voyeurs we see them, walking away, together.
We stay there, for a little while, no words are needed. We watch the pillar the place where the man was.
We take our hands to each other’s eyes and we caress the surfaced tears.
A smile, arise on both you and me it draws on you like fresh brushes of life
We take each others tear on each others lips, And we know the evening will be perfect.
What are the memories, coming to visit us at night under the stars, other times sneaking with us in bed before sleep? What are they? Maybe this is what they are.
Splinters of Infinity, defying time, reversing its arrow, swimming upstream the mists of time till reaching us, wrapping us, blessing us searching for peace giving us their peace.
The Impossible Love. It reveals itself with a simple thought, baffling, unattainable, ripping Thy soul.
The non pretending Love, unconditional, inevitable, resigned contented by the simple thought of Thee.
Whenever you silence your conscience bully it comes back loud of its promises, its wishes those flights that you only can quench by singing it, crying it, dancing it embracing it.
Kitty Michelle's Universe 