From the Heart
As I sit here in the autumn sun,
I compare it to my life.
It’s weaker now and gentle,
no longer shines as bright.
It strokes my arm with tender care,
with warmth it touches me.
That it joined me on my journey,
is plain for all to see.
It’s dimmer now but just as true,
its rays are full of love.
As it sets, before it dies,
it paints joy in skies above.
If you have a special gift, share it. Gifts bestowed on us are not for us alone but for the world in which we live. Sharing does not deplete us of what we have because what is given out is returned in a way we need.
~ Liza
Take any rose and look some more,
you’ll see that it is made up of four.
The head, the stem, then leaves and thorns,
each of these a rose adorns.
Her head the beauty pulls us in,
thorns so pointed, protecting kin.
The stem she has such a vital task,
to feed the flower so long it may last.
Leaves capturing the light as energy,
assist the plant so she can breath.
And then the roots that we can’t see,
anchoring her in so she can be seen.
Look again when a rose you see,
generous friends so she can just be.
As humans are we any better,
than say, your cat or dog,
does our thinking brain and mind,
not just create a fog.
Does it not cause obstacles,
prevent us from the task,
pondering on the end result,
why do we have to ask.
Is a capacity to think destructive,
messing intuition,
hindering what we truly know,
altering our mission.
Is an animal superior,
intuitively just knowing,
living in the moment,
no worry where it’s going.
I wrote this quickly for fun, but it was something I was pondering on as I’m inclined to do. I sometimes think my mind an obstacle to reaching my true intuitive self. Sometimes I go round and round the houses thinking about something, trying to make up my mind, weighing up the pro’s and cons and end up back at my first intuitive response.
Interested in your thoughts 🙂
None of us get through this life on our own. We are born into a family, make friends and travel through our years here with those we love. Some come, some go but we should never forget or underestimate the support and love of those souls that walk the path with us.
~ Liza
I’m jumping for joy today because of you. Today I get notification I have 500+ followers and I find it amazing. I feel very humble actually because like a lot of writers I don’t rate myself. Your support, likes and comments mean so much to much to me. I’ve made friends too, I feel like I know some of you, it’s a great feeling.
I started this blog a few years back and wrote a few stories when I was coming to terms with mum’s illness, it helped me process what was going on and helped me make sense of my emotions. I was never a serious blogger and let it go shortly after her death. I don’t think I could have written then if I wanted to, I was exhausted and didn’t have anything left in me. I started writing again this year and it seams I can’t stop, I love it. I wake in the night thinking of ideas, I check out WP on waking and last thing at night.
I love to read your posts and see such wonderful photography and art. You make me think, pause, laugh, cry and cook all in the space of a day!
Thank you, thank you, thank you!
Daily Prompt – JUMP
You really made me jump,
I did not know,
that you might return
after having to go.
But there you were
at the end of the bed,
I thought it strange,
maybe in my head.
Oh how I wish now,
I hadn’t screamed out loud,
my head was foggy,
just a mass of cloud.
I’m sorry you went,
believing I didn’t care,
I really need you near me
again, just over there.
So now I’m prepared,
I sleep with in dimmed light,
hoping and praying,
you’ll return one night.
Angels visit us every day in disguise as friends, family and those that might just cross our paths. Shine brightly and open yourself up to the magic of angels.
~ Liza
You can’t buy style, you have it or you don’t, it’s natural and intuitive. Style is an idea brought to life, it’s creative and artistic and it takes a very good eye and great flair to have real style.
My mum had great style, it was innate. She should have been a fashion designer, artist or some such thing, but she wasn’t she was a single mother working in accounts, bringing up two small children because her husband walked out on her.
I remember as a child wanting my mum to wear the twin sets all my friends mum’s wore, but she didn’t ever look like anyone else, she refused to. I used to believe designers followed her around with pads, drawing what she was wearing, as it usually came out the following year and she would chuck whatever it was into the spare room never to be worn again.
Mum loved lace, antique clothes and jewellery from Covent Garden Market, long dresses and skirts. She had hundreds of belts, usually wide, that adorned her tiny waist and more jewellery than you could ever imagine. Mum loved a statement necklace and I still have many of them. Funny I usually wear something of mums every day, a necklace, a scarf, jacket, she was far more fashionable than me.
Style is individual, intrinsic, spontaneous and I hope hereditary!
On occasion I feel very small, of little consequence,
see myself as minuscule and maybe just pretence.
Now and then gigantic, my spirit soars right out,
energised with belief you see, oh how I soar about.
Sometimes I look back into my eyes, wonder who I am,
with vacant gaze and little depth, I’m probably a sham.
Occasionally my eyes look back, talk to me somehow,
I dive in deep to find myself, as at times they will allow.
I’ve really only myself to blame, wary of moving on,
of reaching a place of clarity, where I should belong.
I must choose my pathway, keep myself on track,
being in the moment, focused and not looking back.
lizalizaskysaregrey 