the breeze will blow one day it will carry your sorrows away.
hold on to hope, my love, the breeze will blow one day. the wind will rustle the leaves and…
one day
Clarity in Muddied Waters
A Messianic Journey Through Pen and Peace. Writing from the Stillness Within.
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It’s yellow.
I’m sure it is.
The glowing light which ripples its way through my body.
It has to be yellow.
Not a bright yellow, not a dark yellow, but a subtle yellow.
A yellow with the grace of a dancer, the grace of a feather gliding towards it’s resting place.
A warmth that flecks those around it.
Little, sunny specks, shimmering like gold, preserving feelings like you would anything else.
The secret they seem to whisper in your ear.
The secret that is so wonderful.
So wonderful it can it pass you lips.
The yellow embrace, of happiness.
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Falling.
Waiting for the moment when someone catches you and embraces you in a warm manner.
But that moment doesn’t come.
You’re left struggling.
You’re left to pick up the pieces and drag yourself up to the task of brushing away the hurt, the confusion.
Pain.
The people surrounding you, influencing you are willing to let you crumble into dust, crumble into a position of no comfort, of no love.
The niggling feeling inside of you.
Like little mice are tearing away at your flesh, and dropping them onto the floor to be tramapled by unsuspecting feet.
Hurt.
The consequences of allowing the toxicity to weave it’s way through your body.
The poisonous attitudes that dance around minds, that dance around hearts.
Twisting, turning, hurting, teasing.
The fake friends.
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Photo #9
Clarity in Muddied Waters 
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