joy is feeling
looking upwards
skies enrapture
the sorry self
and its grievance
joy is seeing
looking westwards
social fracture
healing itself
from insurgence
joy is knowing
looking eastwards
proper culture
relieves oneself
from ignorance
joy is seeing
looking outwa
joy is knowing
the best of views
fuels volition
to climb the mount
joy is having
freedom to choose
which obstruction
one must surmount
joy is knowing
hearing the muse
is like drinking
from the youth fount
joy is having
nothing to lose
and yet having
blessings to co
when gloominess
deflects the gale
joy is the wind
that fills the sail
when despair is
tricking the scale
joy is the clue
that tells the tale
when spleen is thick
and hopes are pale
joy is meaning
that lifts the veil
when no reason
can find the trail
joy is compass
though worries hurt
and fears injure
joy yields healing
beyond measure
though gloom has roots
deep in culture
joy at all times
sages nurture
though the reasons
may outnumber
joy is the wealth
wise ones treasure
though the mundane
exerts pressure
joy is accord
with
when the constraints
the spirit faze
joy is a door
out of the maze
when nobody
offers their praise
joy is moving
on anyways
when challenges
the psyche daze
joy is clear sky
after the haze
when upheavals
disrupt the ways
joy is respite
on heavy days
when there is fault
at the crossroad
joy is knowing
the cosmic goad
when the ciphers
the wit erode
joy is insight
breaking the code
when through hard work
seeds have been sowed
joy is seeing
blessings bestowed
when there's burden
and a long road
joy is a friend
hal
when there's no vim
the land to till
joy swells the wind
running the mill
when there's no verve
the page to fill
joy lights the spark
moving the quill
when obstacles
challenge the skill
joy marks the path
leading uphill
when restrictions
deter the w
joy is being given
the secret of silence
after the hard lesson
and the heavy penance
joy is being driven
to relay radiance
and this way forgiven
for past indifference
§
(« God, suspended in the clouds, creates light. » by Thomas de Leu)
what was there left to do
standing at the summit
but to reach for the sky
up above infinite
what was there left to do
at the edge of the land
but to keep on going
and defy gravity
what
Trees are swaying in the sun
the gentle breeze of spring has come.
The blossom bright with pink and white
drops gently down as it catches the light.
Butterflies so beautiful just flutter by without a care,
its great to break away from life just for a day
I'll dwell
in sacred places
in the past and in the future
In the Eternal Now
There, where is my Calling
This, that is my Home
anchored in the base
roots into Eternity
Coming Home.....
The time of sleep is over
Awakening is upon us
yet some dwelli
Bring forth to me the sky of being,
a world of flow and strife.
Fall upon the eyes of love,
to cleanse the scowl of hate.
Clear does the call rise,
on the noon of mine desire.
Set in stone of past,
so far away from now!
Loneliness reflected in solemn e
A face and a snake, defined in love,
behind a door of gold and blue.
Come hither to pass through
the portal to the fortress of God
Land of the forbidden,
land of the ever after.
Guarded by a Basilisk,
both light and dark
Dripping fangs, and gleamin
Circle, spiral, flow, slender body tense in a coil
Every footstep a threat, every vibration a tremor
skin reading vibrations, tongue testing the air
Instinct makes the heart race, tightening the coils
Who are you vibration that haunt me
Is there a pur
Our Illusions Must Welcome Truth, Be Spoken With Love, And An Honest Reflection Of Faith In Order To Manifest Freedom For An Ever Expansive Eternity.
Hello my lovely and beautiful friends. I love you all so very much. I wrote this a few months ago and
(« Family » by Jo Christian Oterhals)
At some point during this past winter, I thought it would be interesting to see if I could come up with a bunch of songs that I could play on my own, without the need of a backing band. I had always wanted to try
Bring forth to me the sky of being
a world of flow and strife
fall upon the eyes of love
to cleanse the scowl of hate
Clear does the call rise
on the noon of mine desire
set in stone of past
so fat away from now
Loneliness reflected in solemn eyes
How far has
One day I was quoting David Carradine on my Facebook – “If you cannot be a poet, be the poem.” Some people were puzzled and asked, “What does it mean?”
Likewise, in my ever first Video Blog, I said something like, “You are not a person with wisdom. Yo
Rustling scales, restless twitching wings
Blue eyes searching the horizon
Tongue wetting lips tight with tension
Deep impatient rumbling in a smouldering belly
Sensitive to the vibrations on the ether
The smell of apprehension on the heart of soul
A flick
You are in each breath I take, each kiss the sun leave on my skin.
In the breath of the wind that caress my hair.
Each day I hear you whisper my name on the wind,
The smell of a warm summer day on the breeze, reminds me of you.
