In the fields of compassion (September 5, 2016)

And my eyes are full of wonder,
and my heart is full of hope,
and despite the whirl of breaking bad and breaking news,

I witness myself to be

faithful of the things that are, the things that may never be,
and what I wish for all of us:

I envision an endless horizon with lush greenery and stalks of vibrant sunflowers.
The sun is gentle on my bare skin, the winds of revelation are guiding me further into self-investigation.

I carry nothing, I travel within.

I have no preconceptions of what’s to come, I surrender into the teachings which wait for me in the unknown.

Humble and messy, I always am, and the inevitable typos keep me honest and human.

There are the moments I would wipe away if I could,
but if I would,
I wouldn’t be here, now, writing you this love letter,

and that’s not a truth I am willing to have pass me by.

So I keep my eyes full of wonder and my heart full of hope
by writing love across your bathroom mirror in smudged
burnt red lipstick
so you never forget the reflection of your

passionate self.

You write love on a napkin like a fifth grade spelling bee

and leave it behind with yesterday’s dark coffee grinds,

hoping I find it and make sense of your lunacy.

And for that, I adore you because

my journey into the fields of compassion has not been without
its challenges,
but the rewards have been infinite.
So there I continue to go,
farther and farther away from the darkness of the forests of my own making

and into the light,

(oh) that light of the fields of compassion.

Meet me (t)here,

Your Higher Self

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