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two birds one stone

Posted on Dec 12th, 2008 by Shanti : Wild Grace Shanti
Bird_in_the_hand
Conversing with time,
she listens as the plot unfurls.
Relaxing into the part,
twisting her fingers through the threads of thought.
They come in waves,
of mine then yours;
holy on thier divisive mission of God.

Because crossing chickens with eggs, with my own two hands gets sticky.
The footprints lead accross the road in both directions still nobody really cares why.
And somtimes it's so funny that not even I get it,
but I love to laugh.

In the middle of the dream,
we cut and bind it to this broken soul,
Wedged between this rock and the hard place.
winged prayers of hope,
fluttering inside glass houses,
throwing pebbles to insult and incite us.
Storming the gates of heaven where angels lust for blood.
Of we with nothing to hold on to and nothing left to loose.

She cries because you don't understand,
how everything  means nothing;
if your not here,
if I'm not real,
As if Love isn't the seventh sense of grace,
revealed as this.

The stone sinks,
Rippling through the reflections of me and you,
held fast under the same spell,
nestled in the feathered palm of destiny itself.
And you can argue with that, but need knows love better than we ouselves could be.

Changing the ending as we make it up, we sing.
Because God knows best,
and time said it isn't over yet.
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Chaos theory

Posted on Dec 23rd, 2008 by Shanti : Wild Grace Shanti
Guess_who
"Do you know what this is?" She whispers in the corners of everything,
 where the universe begins to split apart.
The feeling pushes up inside my own sweet chest
with the life the Gods would envy if they could.
Pleasure overrides me unitl your attention brings me back to earth again.
Holding the flow of my own breath gently against me.

Taking my hand to assure me she is anything but real,
but it's not like it matters what I believe anyhow.
The stars explode under the pressure of this Love
and time spills out in all directions at once.
Still you ask me to be sensible and I try for you,
to pretend, what I don't see.
To be what Love needs, Beacuse I know;
as if now was all there all along,
 fragmented though the aspects of dreaming.
To see the whole is madness, so insanity I am.


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