I am most free, most honest...
In between these words...
waiting for the pen and heartbeat
to tell the stories of the Universe.
Seeing inside our hearts like this...
waiting for us to listen...
When we come here-
we must remove our shackles
and the armor of our broken, bleeding hearts.
We must tell stories,
listen to the seeds of ancient trees-
the breath of the winds-
the flame of every burning sunrise
taste the salted tears of every sea.
Don't come here at all
unless you are willing to bend a little for it,
to break a little for it.
To let your house fall down around you for it, to go up in flames for it.
Unless you are willing
to die a little for it,
to live a little for it.
For us all.
Our bleeding hearts must bleed for it together...
or not at all.
February 2nd, 2018