Battle of the Blues

The very purpose of existence is to reconcile the glowing opinion we hold of ourselves with the appalling things that other people think about us. 

  

Quentin Crisp 

Research is formalized curiosity. It is poking and prying with a purpose. 

Zora Neale Hurston 

The Apple Effect

A princess recalled

 With puzzled remembrance

That she believed

In happiness

But hope seemed to have ended

Somewhere out there,
Where the thread of memory
As a sealed fountain of
Past tears 

Could not fall again

Having once been

Bled.

Her feet

She had once upon time

Placed on a 
Gray marked stone

And she wondered, "Do

I belong to the cold, still, 

Darkness of memory, 

Past the time of Princes,
Of dreams; content 
And comforted by 

A kind of kinship

With the dead?"

Through life, and

Beyond the rivers 

Her soul had passed.

 Experienced in loss and sorrow,

Her resume' current,  

She applied to the 
Courts of heaven

For entrance, possessing

An understanding

Of those before.

And denied, 
She pled.

And perceived a 
Language called Wisdom, 

 By which she conversed 
With the aged now and then

On the other side

Of the River between 

Life and Death,

The Great River, 

A legacy of sound, 

The speech of souls,

An echo of the
Living dead.

Remembered faces
She knew

Some had been blessed and
Lined with age, kind eyes lit

With understanding,

Knowledge unspoken.  
Experience.

Each one drew her gaze
Or begged her hear
And she was sustained.  

Alive, waiting, 
No longer sorrowful,

With these angels, whose

Tongues and shining eyes 
Were filled.

 Watching eyes

Seemed to know 

She had been

Misplaced somehow

Between two realms,

Was buoyed -
Strengthened by

Sweet, deep 

Silent empathy.

For the time is now, 
They know

(For whom there is no time), 

To wait, having completed 

The course of life

A live body,

A soul dead.

While she, seeming 
Perfect in repose 
Through the time 
Of sorrows,

Wondered how to
Complete her journey,

A shadow in the forest, a
Horseman, soft of step 
Appeared and drew near.

 The footfall of a Prince

Upon the forest floor 

Was heard.

Softly stirring,

Scarcely heard among

Persistent breezes,

The breath of life

Brushed across her,

Crept through her veins,

Insistent upon life,

Bringing awareness.

Awakening came by degrees,

Unfurled sensations, 
A place beyond regrets 
Death was declared 
Conquerable. 

Thus, the

Command to live

Was obeyed.

We create our own unhappiness. The purpose of suffering is to help us understand we are the ones who cause it. 

Willie Nelson 

Shadows

We can't solve problems by using the same kind of thinking we used when we created them. 

Albert Einstein

Project - Ready, Set, Go!

BLUE

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