Tagged: passion

7-23-15

A skirmish rages in the hearts of many,
a soul searing battle waged hard-nosed
and to the end,
a scuffle between the many versions and
visions of ourselves that have come to pass,
and those that have not yet tasted the wind…
the age old tousle between
what your parents wanted, versus
what you thought you couldn’t be, versus
what society taught you that you wanted, versus
what you thought you should be, versus
what you thought you could be, versus
what you know you’re really meant to be…
each one has a score to settle,
and each one desperately wants a hunk
of the pie,
each wants to set their flag fluttering
at the peak, but in the end,
we have to make that climb,
and we have to decide who will set our
ropes-
we have to decide who will grab our hand
when our footing slips,
or who will help to light our way when all
above and below us goes dark-
in the end, the battle is with ourselves…
once we discover what we’re really meant to
be, the battle is won..
there can only be one victor, and in the battle
between selves, one way or another, we will
come through,
and what truly wins is the acceptance of
what IS…
which is the acceptance of peace*

-G. Boston

7-22-15

What I saw, I did not just see,
and what was felt was felt beyond
feeling,
beyond reason and comprehension-
what I heard struck me in ways
that I didn’t know existed,
and what I learned will last a
lifetime-
look to the sky and close your
eyes-
join it in solitude for just a
fraction-
what will you learn when you
set aside your fears?
courage is a set of wings
determined to meet the
clouds*

-G. Boston

7-21-15

You touch upon me like a whisper
to willing lips, and weave a melody heard
between us only-
you must know that the skies are bluer
when your arms are wrapped around
me,
and that when you look at me,
the mountains kiss the sky,
and the sea glitters like a bed of liquid
stars…
I see the sun through your eyes,
and through that lens the world is
a masterpiece that forces me to
shake my head in disbelief-
I can only close my eyes under the
weight of it,
and when I do, you always seem
to appear*

-G. Boston

6-5-15

He painted the surface of the
moon with doubt,
and filled each crater with tears,
as his breath painted the night sky with
mist spewed into the chill of winter,
fast and frantic and desperate-
he knelt in the snow and prayed,
and prayed,
and waited…
the sun dried his face clean,
and taught him the power of words
and the truth behind them,
of expression, and the freedom
that it dealt,
of self belief,
and the healing that it sows,
of change, and the foundation that it
constructs-
one foot on the ground and another
on the mountain,
perched tall on the moon while gazing
at mars,
always searching ahead for the next
challenge,
preparing for the next battle,
dreaming of the next hurdle,
planning the next adventure
and refusing to settle for less…
all while savoring each second
of the present*