Adulthood is the

hard skin against feelings of --


gentle compassion.

All that we are:

      Our love  
  
      Our faith
    
      Our joy:

These are the skin that covers.
Bones and ligaments to join
and organize structure.
Blood that sustains and nourishes life.

All that we are:

      Our hate      

      Our doubt    

      Our grief:

Pores to let protective skin breath.
Marrow to create nourishing stream.
Veins to channel crimson flow.

Negative benign yet indispensable
Without which is lump of flesh

      Love working in hate

      Faith in doubt

      Joy in grief

Willing to bleed    
Willing to feel

Ready and willing
To be human without fear

     Our trust

     Our compassion  

     Our virtue:

Animation in our motionless bodies.
Cross-fertilization in
super-natural selection.
Elements of dark and beautiful metamorphosis.

Denied too often  

Misunderstood

Food of the gods      

All that we are

Essence of ever-changing  universe

I am open to receive love, kindness and compassion.

The world is in chaos and I am at peace
How strange to view chaos
   from outside looking-in
Looking at all the confused masses in despair
Where is my compassion?
       — Magi

I am here.
It's ok, breath.
I love you.
I know, it's difficult sometimes.
We fall into patterns of wanting to make everyone around us happy. But ourselves.
We sometimes need time to see and realize this.
To recognize what is happening.
We are learning.
It's good you show yourself as you are.
I have your back.
You don't need to control anything or anyone.
Just be and relax.
Just be yourself.
You are safe here.
I am always here for you.

She's deeply disappointed and angry as it seems
She lives in a land of broken hearts and shattered dreams
Unfortunate for me to be her mirror
I wish it was something that helped her see clearer

How hurt and abandoned one person must feel
Nobody to love her and help her to heal
She doesn't see nor her sorrow nor grief
The manipulation is her only relief

I don't want to pity her but
Want to feel compassion
I must admit for me
It's challenging as well
I try to be as present as I can

I'm paying my respects to all these survivors
I have struggles explaining how draining it feels
I feel worry, sadness and anger for
This land of broken hearts and shattered dreams.

three steps backwards to propel us forward.
make acquaintances to the people
we grew up to be.

once lovers, now strangers
entangled in history,
retrace the path

follow the road of compassion
back to the beginning,
to find the future of us.

Those pictures of me
Are disingenuous images

Blurred from the start
The fuzziness has grown over time

I’m told to see myself
Where can I find a true mirror?

Others say the sounds of me
Are clear and eye-opening

I listen for the sounds inside me
Can sounds ring distinct and genuine

Still much static blurs
The best parts of me

I seek to find silence
To settle into solitude

I engage in deeply
Listening to the uttering of my heart

My heart emits a song
Of the genuine me

On the brightest of days you were by my side,
And on the darkness of days you chose to hide.