A wishing wind with hope in its hands

There is a wishing wind with hope in its hands

Faring forth across this sunwarmed land

And the first days of lavish haste blows

Joy to life in the past’s crisscrossing wake.

Let us leave the ways of evergreen moors

Like questing birds through memories curling

Like white shadows in blue tide.

Who knows what the great beyond has in store,

Whose salty lips the praying future has kissed,

But we are in pilgrim mood sailing on outbound ships,

Our dreams already there rejoicing in spirit

On love’s beckoning shores.

Barely touching the ground

I am a tree growing up-side down

My crown barely touching the ground

Just enough for little frightened birds

To seek shelter under from the eagles.

I am a tree growing up-side down

My roots securely fastened above.

But it is so far away…

It is unfair, I have realized that now,

Comparing all love to the one I am planted in.

No one will ever live up to it.

Maybe that is why I will always be just a little bit lonely.

They all say I am an Angel…

It rains when I cry; stars come out when I am alone.

Maybe that is why they mistake my leaves for wings.

But I am a tree growing up-side down

And I sprout beautiful flowers in the spring.

Otherwise, why on earth would I be here?

But don’t you realize… when you touch me…

Your touch reaches further than you think

And when you make me cry…

My tears come from somewhere far away…

So be gentle, be kind, and accept that I might always be

Just a little bit lonely… even with your arms around me.

I am a tree growing up-side down

My crown barely touching the ground

Just enough for you to reach

When you stand

on your toes.

Angels can’t love

I walk into the shop I’ve been to many times before.

But now I am someone else.

I see them in there.

Those who come from the past.

They look different.

They see me.

Eyes opening wide.

They see me.

They see that I am beautiful.

More beautiful than before.

They walk over to me.

They want to be close to me.

Arms reaching for me.

That is when I see him.

Something passes between us.

A movement.

But he is not the one to protect me

when the war comes.

When the machine guns come.

Someone else steps in front of me.

I wait for death.

But it doesn’t come.

I see him again.

He is kneeling down.

Someone points a gun at me.

I start crying.

Wings slowly grow

from his shoulder blades.

The soldiers smile and nod their heads.

“Finally,” they say.

“That is what it took.”

They lay down their guns.

I am still crying.

I am safe.

But I am not loved.

Angels can’t love humans.

Not the way we need to be loved.

Exclusively. Exceptionally.

As though we were the only one

needing to be loved

by them.

*This is actually a dream I had while sleeping.

Making other people happy

Making other people happy is an easy way to make yourself happy, but when we strain ourselves too much, when we use other people’s happiness to forget about our pain, when there is an imbalance between input and output, it can be harmful to our health and cause an addictive behavioral pattern where you become dependent on others for your happiness. Trying too hard to please others can cause stress-related illnesses as much as a high-pressure job can.

Taking care of your own needs is not selfish it is healthy! Yes, some of us have different needs than others, like much needed alone-time, long moments of silence, a lot of rest, etc. that can sometimes irritate people who can’t relate to it. But we need to take care of our special needs anyway and ignore those who try to make us feel bad for being the way we are. Imagine if you don’t take care of your needs and come down with a stress-related illness that ends you up in hospital. Most likely those same people will come to you saying: “Why didn’t you just speak up for yourself and tell us what you needed?”

Everyone wants to be the cause of someone else’s happiness, but no one wants to be the cause of someone else’s pain. When you don’t take care of your own needs and don’t speak up for yourself you unintentionally put someone in that position. And that, I imagine, if you are anything like me, is the last thing you want.

Night Blooming Jasmine

Sometimes when night comes

You wish

You were a wildflower

Tucked away in a forest field

Patiently waiting

To grow towards the light.

But your dreams are different.

Your wishful thoughts

Have always seemed too old

For your tender years.

But if you stay awake

And challenge your fears

You will see that you, my friend,

Are a Night Blooming Jasmine

Whose love is as vast

As the night’s layers of darkness,

Your heart’s soft petals

Unfolding the sweetest sense

Of home,

And you will discover

That you already are

Where you truly belong.

To feel loved

I feel loved by feeling that I am enough.

That I deserve everything just because I am.

To be comforted when I am sad,

Forgiven when I make a mistake,

To be heard when I speak up,

To be understood when I try to explain my emotions.

To be encouraged to pursue my own definition

Of happiness no matter what that is.

I feel loved by feeling that I am lifted when I fall,

To be allowed to have a voice when I am angry,

And to cry like a child when I need to,

Laugh like a child when I want to

And dance like a child when I feel like it.

That is how I feel loved.

That is how you make me feel loved.

To make me feel that I am enough and that I

Deserve everything just because

I am.