cruising

windows down

my roots wandering through the mountain peaks

searching for nothing but

a home in a heart

the road goes on and on

and I wonder how far it’ll take me the next time around,

the next trip around the sun

but for now,

I’m everywhere

and nowhere to be found

traveling without directions because

strength has become my compass

and I’m certain it’ll get me exactly where

it is that I’m meant to be

until then,

you can find me cruising

with a head full of dreams.

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for those who have forgotten how to dream

isn’t it sad that as adults we have to learn how to dream again?

when do we lose our innocence and start abandoning hope?

when does it happen, exactly?

is it between 9 and 12? between fairy tales and the first heartbreak? between sleepovers and school dances held in empty gymnasiums that always felt so packed and scary back then?

when do we tell ourselves to buckle up, to settle down?  When do we convince ourselves that misery is just yet another part of life?

when do we switch the “someday I will change the world” for “I just can’t.”?

when the proverbial old shoe drop, does it fall on our heads?

WHY HAVE WE FORGOTTEN HOW TO DREAM?

and why do we keep acting as if love isn’t enough, as if love is an out of this world experience reserved for a few lucky ones, but certainly not us?

why do we grow up and suddenly stop seeing our own light and recognizing our divine and start coveting instead the tiny spark we find in others?

somewhere between the years, between then and now, we abandon our dreams like marbles, letting them roll away as they please.

Some even leave them locked up tight in a drawer in the basement of a home they plan never to return to again.

out of sight, out of mind.

But why do we also forget of all the dreams come true? and when we start losing faith, is that also when we begin to tell ourselves that we’re all alone?

the world needs dreamers.

the world needs those who can find light in its absence, those who see white in black, those who still wish upon a falling start;

the world needs for more of the poor to become rich so that money can turn gratefulness into our currency, peace into the spoken language, and love the only truth we seek.

Do not let anyone convince you that every single desire in your heart cannot be met.

You can have it all.

All you need to do is teach yourself to dream again.

 

 

Southwark Cathedral

I lit a candle for you.

The chapel was empty but the light was still shining through-

I don’t know why I did it, but I lit a candle for you 

and just as soon as I had,

I ran out clutching my heart and gasping for air

and I stood outside in the courtyard

looking at the exquisite gothic architecture and 

lines, avoiding the vortex of sadness

that constantly tries to take over my life.
Still, I lit a candle for you.
I don’t even know why-

You never believed in these things and neither do I.

Maybe I lit a candle to keep you alive

Somewhere between the archways of this cathedral and the glass stained windows all around.

I lit a candle for you 

And then had to run outside to breathe

because the only thing I can ever do for you now 

is light a candle for you,

and that doesn’t solve anything;

it doesn’t mean anything;

it doesn’t change anything. 

Still, I lit a candle for you 

maybe so others would see that I once loved and lost deeply, too;

I once believed in something, too.

Maybe I lit that candle 

for me.