In my heart we dance

In my heart we dance, we hold each other under a moonlit sky. In my heart we do everything you promised, everything i imagined. In my heart its as perfect as your entrance into my life.

Peace is what i feel and i dont know why, i dont know why the tears have stopped. I think it's because in my heart we dance. We live as lovers should and somewhere in the universe of almost occurences we had our chance. Maybe indeed in another lifetime we were one, we laughed and kissed, had our moments of bliss, we grew old together and died. And now by chance we get a few more moments to say hello.

In my heart we dance in a place that only we know. A place you can always come back to because you deserve to be there. I wont forget you, because when i think about you we dance in my heart to a song only we can hear. We dance to a song that has to end but we dance, we dance until the last beat and clutch each other in a goodbye that makes even the birds cry.
For you always in my heart we dance....

twenty something

So I was watching a recap show of the 6 seasons of the show 'The Hills". Yes it's my guilty pleasure, well was I didnt watch the last season because the main character left. Anyhow the point of this is that the ladies were having a convo about life and being twenty something and the 1/4 life crisis. That one day you wake up and all of sudden you ask yourself where is your life going especially when the people around you seem to be progressing. You, for a second, long for the days when life was simpler, you were younger and didnt have that much to worry about.
In one way some say you are still young, what is young? To me being young is relative, depending on what you want to achieve in life.
You begin to wonder when the big events of life will roll in, where your so called career is going. Where you are going and who you are going there with.
I have had thoughts on all these things and seeing that I dont have the answers I can only say that life is short so might as well enjoy every opportunity and every moment given.

Rambling

It has come to my attention that when it comes to matters of the heart, relationships, friendships, the opposite sex everyone whether single, married or divorce can and will give their advice on a situation.
The interesting part is that everyone's advice is based on the story of their heart.
The hopeless romantics who married their first loves and live happily in their white picket fenced dreams always seek to give you fairy tale type advice, the pot of gold at the end of a rainbow type of deal.
The bitter, scared closet goths will always see the dark side, the negative and help pour mud on your head as wallow in it.
If a situation looks oh too familar to one as though it was theirs you best believe their advice will mirror their outcome.
Dont get me wrong there are the objective ones who look past their heart's story and tell you what they see on the fence.
The most dangerous type of advice comes from those who hide their heart's story. No one knows what they have been through and they pretend and say things contrary to their experience. If you dont know where someone has been then how can you judge the credibility of their words?

At the end of the day is it your heart and its story that you should first tune into. There is no 1 else in the world that knows you better. Yes your heart will get you into a load of trouble and will get itself broken (not on purpose of course). But consider the times the heart is right and the world is wrong. What would be the story "the saddest word of mouth and pen are saying the words what could have been.."
Follow God and your heart, with a small pinch of object visionaries :)

Ahh just another random ramble

The Keeper

like a faithful lighthouse keeper who keeps the beacon lit for all the ships to return home, she puts her candle out every night. Every night she trims her candle and sets it in the window sill. Through rain, snow and the bitter cold the little beam lights the way for you to come home. She loyally clears the window of fog and frost so the flame can brighten your path. You always come home, to the door unlocked and hot tea awaiting you in the arms of your loving waiter.
One night she sets her candle out after sunset as always, wiping the late evening dew off the tattered window panes. She sits and waits staring out the window waiting for your shadow. None appears,hour after hour her eyes grow tired in the light of the fading candle, it melts dripping wax minute by minute a process she can not stop, she has no more candles. This is it you must come home.
Where could you be, what has kept you, have you abandoned her? Her hope fades with every drop of wax, will you not return? What will happen when her candle fades to black she worries how you will find your way back. As the candle burns into a stump your tea has grown as cold as her patience. She takes a last lookout for your shadow for a sign of your presence, opening the door she calls out your name to the darkness. It swallows her cries, she locks her door and weeps for she knows not how or if you will ever find her again....

Pray for the Lovers

I was looking through Essence.com's top 40 poets and i came across the first 3 lines of this poemby Jayne Cortez. I was intrigued and searched for it, i really like its truth

PRAY FOR THE LOVERS by Jayne Cortez.
Pray for the lovers
for those who are suspicious
for those who are jealous
for those who are revengeful
Pray for the lovers
for those who are unsatisfied
for those who are frightened
for those who are disappointed
pray for those who are lonely lazy & limited
Pray for the lovers
for those unwilling to reveal & unable to revolt
for those who are helpless
for those who are hostile
for those whose flesh goes dead upon touching
the frigid
the passive
the latent
the soft
have mercy on the lovers in heat
pray for those with pain in their bodies
pain in their minds
for sorrow
for fear & the spell of madness after love says goodbye
Pray for the lovers in the name of love
in the name of god & the mirror of death
love in the name of some rollin hips
those churning lips & the blood
that drips incest to incest
all power to the lovers in the name of love
all power to the lovers in the name of love
all power to the lovers in the name of love....

Day and Night

found this poem.. i dont know who wrote it but i liked it

Glass Angel

You are like a child who asks to play with the precious porcelain doll placed high on a shelf. You had eyed her for quite sometime and were fascinated by her delicate nature. You are told handle with care, she's not a toy. You take her start off gently cradling her in your loving arms. As time goes by you get more comfortable you toss her, play rough, scraping her arms and chaffing her skin.Yet still she always landed safely back in your arms.
So you take her fragility for granted becoming more careless and carefree. You think that she's indestructable, simply unbreakable. So you drop her, face first onto the cold tile floor, breaking her little glass self into a million pieces. And then like a coward you run away leaving the shattered angel broken and alone, a mess for someone else to clean up. You never thought to turn around and mend her, humbly piecing each shard together.
Alas you are a child you know no better. Runaway and hide little boy, do what you know best.