Wild Sky – Christy Anne Martine

She lost herself in the trees

among the ever-changing leaves.

She wept beneath the wild sky

as stars told stories of ancient times.

The flowers grew towards her light,

the river called her name at night.

She could not live an ordinary life

with the mysteries of the universe

hidden in her eyes.

Water by Nikita Gill

When they ask you why you love the rain,

the ocean,

the river,

tell them it is because unlike the people who should have loved you better,

the water was never afraid to touch you;

even when you were at your most damaged and broken.

Soul Mates – Lang Leav

I don’t know how you are so familiar to me

Or why it feels less like I am getting to know you

and more as though I am remembering who you are.

How every smile, every whisper,

brings me closer to the impossible conclusion

that I have known you before,

I have loved you before,

In another time,

A different place,

some other existence.

London – a poem by William Blake

I wander through each chartered street,

Near where the chartered Thames does flow,

And mark in every face I meet marks of weakness, marks of woe.

In every cry of every man,

In every infant’s cry of fear, in every voice, in every ban,

The mind-forged manacles I hear how the chimney-sweeper’s cry

Every black’ning church appeals,

And the hapless soldier’s sigh runs in blood down palace walls.

But most through midnight streets

I hear how the youthful harlot’s curse

Blasts the new-born infant’s tear,

And blights with plagues the marriage hearse.

Love – by Emmet Fox

There is no difficulty that enough love will not conquer;

No disease that enough love will not heal;

No door that enough love will not open;

No gulf that enough love will not bridge;

No wall that enough love will not throw down;

No sin that enough love will not redeem.

It makes no difference how deeply seated may be the trouble,

How hopeless the outlook,

How muddled the tangle,

How great the mistake;

A sufficient realization of love will dissolve it all.

If only you could love enough,

you would be the happiest and most powerful being in the world.

Sometimes – David Whyte

Sometimes
if you move carefully
through the forest

breathing
like the ones
in the old stories

who could cross
a shimmering bed of dry leaves
without a sound, 

you come
to a place
whose only task

is to trouble you
with tiny
but frightening requests

conceived out of nowhere
but in this place
beginning to lead everywhere.

Requests to stop what
you are doing right now,
and

to stop what you
are becoming
while you do it,

questions
that can make
or unmake
a life,

questions
that have patiently
waited for you,

questions
that have no right
to go away.