What tomorrow will bring...

In the arms of an angel we seek

What we lost and loved

In the arms of an angel we dream

About clouds and light

In the arms of an angel we hope

That we will fix what is broken

In the arms of an angel we cry

and give voice to what we cannot say out loud

In the ilusion we believe in a world

In the reality the suffering is there and cannot be shut

I seek, I dream, I hope and I cry

for words not said

for feelings that are breaking my heart

for pieces shattered by pain

for something that may not be there anymore

for something that will always be the other half...

What we seek, dream, hope and cry for...

Is as real as the sunshine

There is nothing that can break it

but still... the pain is learning

the pain is a growing of souls and spirit

the pain is what is needed to understand

that a half is always part of a whole

and the whole is one... even if broken!

The sun was shining and the hearts were happy. When the eyes made contact with the bee, they weren't sure to what to do. The bee was sad and hurt, and she walked as if she wasn't sure where to go. The bee was runing away from the plants behind, that could offer her some protection, she was walking in the direction of the water, sea water... 

She gets up and grabs a shelf to help the bee, but it is to small, and the bee was scared already. And then she grabed a cap, and helped the bee to jump to the protection given to her. The bee understood, she walked to the cap, and she started right away to clean herself.

"Too much salt... The sand was not helping... My wings are stuck and very dry... I cannot fly... " 

"You can stay here as long as you want... Would you want me to put you on the top of a plant?"

"A few more minutes and yes..."

So the bee cleaned herself, and after a while she put the bee on the top of a plant, where the bee kept cleaning herself, happy for been given an opportunity. 

The bee stayed there for 20 minutes, cleaning her wings, refreshing her soul and trying to calm down from the evident death that she was going through. 

She started to fly, and made a turn around her saying thanks... And off she went... With the promisse of a renewed life...

It doesn’t interest me
what you do for a living.
I want to know
what you ache for
and if you dare to dream
of meeting your heart’s longing.

It doesn’t interest me
how old you are.
I want to know
if you will risk
looking like a fool
for love
for your dream
for the adventure of being alive.

It doesn’t interest me
what planets are
squaring your moon...
I want to know
if you have touched
the centre of your own sorrow
if you have been opened
by life’s betrayals
or have become shrivelled and closed
from fear of further pain.

I want to know
if you can sit with pain
mine or your own
without moving to hide it
or fade it
or fix it.

I want to know
if you can be with joy
mine or your own
if you can dance with wildness
and let the ecstasy fill you
to the tips of your fingers and toes
without cautioning us
to be careful
to be realistic
to remember the limitations
of being human.

It doesn’t interest me
if the story you are telling me
is true.
I want to know if you can
disappoint another
to be true to yourself.
If you can bear
the accusation of betrayal
and not betray your own soul.
If you can be faithless
and therefore trustworthy.

I want to know if you can see Beauty
even when it is not pretty
every day.
And if you can source your own life
from its presence.

I want to know
if you can live with failure
yours and mine
and still stand at the edge of the lake
and shout to the silver of the full moon,
“Yes.”

It doesn’t interest me
to know where you live
or how much money you have.
I want to know if you can get up
after the night of grief and despair
weary and bruised to the bone
and do what needs to be done
to feed the children.

It doesn’t interest me
who you know
or how you came to be here.
I want to know if you will stand
in the centre of the fire
with me
and not shrink back.

It doesn’t interest me
where or what or with whom
you have studied.
I want to know
what sustains you
from the inside
when all else falls away.

I want to know
if you can be alone
with yourself
and if you truly like
the company you keep
in the empty moments.

By Oriah © Mountain Dreaming,
from the book The Invitation
published by HarperONE, San Francisco,
1999 All rights reserved

You are lost in your world

Everything you believe in and lived by are gone

You are alone and on your own

An emptiness fill places on the soul

where there should be love, joy and hope

They are gone... lost in the deep

There is something you can feel

A pain so strong that makes you disconnected

from yourself and others

There is nothing inside, nothing to feel

Nothing to hope or to love

Everything is gone...

The hand starts moving...

Your body wants to follow it

but your mind says no... it is good to just stand still

Your arm moves on the opposit way

and in a heart beat is pulling the rest of you

Your legs are moving, faster and faster

Your run... and run... and run...

At the top of the street you look back 

It does not make sense to go back

Is good to feel the wind... to move your body... 

To breath fresh air... 

You look ahead of you... there is something...

You run again to reach it...

In a moment ideas, visions and projects are shaped...

The silence is strong

With waves of understanding

With glimpses of what can be

The certainty is vague

Fear and desperation walk together

Hope and joy side by side

The darkness swalows clues

Life changing clues

Openess is blindful by uncontrolled emotions

Clarity is hidden behind minds

And then... Silence...

It breaks all walls, and fears

It gives a possibility of change