ashes

                                         Ashes

I may look and sound broken,

But my soul rises from ashes in secret she kept,

It was the innocent touch and colorful smile underneath a veil, of many layers of injured resentful heart,

Hostage held a moment so dear,

Yesterdays gaily exchange has become the bitter haunt...praises the secret so much regard.

Today...tomorrow awakens a cloud of dust whips the winds with no destination,

Disoriented in the search, vagabond in cosmic riddles,

Deceitful as color blind,

The heart contends outreach,

Journeys...journeys the forgotten

(c) right

RGB

Rejoice or weep

                        DAYS FOR REJOICE AND WEEPING

The nomads rejoice when they see newly land,

The elder widow rejoice when it sees newly weds,

The new born cries because of future sorrow,

The peasant rejoice when he sees the rainy season,

The married couple are sad, because her sterile womb can't

produce,

The criminal is guilty of a crime it doesn't understand,

Low in spirit is the heart breaker for he has lost his touch.

The poor and the rich have embarked in a race, they both will greet in the end.

The days are long, the nights are short, life passes by and so does our dreams.

There are times, things we most hope on, comes and crushes the expectation of what could have been but isn't.

I look around to comprehend the seasons, each one brings a message, even the wind tells about the future.

I stared at the birds, to listen to their interpretations, they cry and weep, rejoice and reflect of what brings the next day.

At times what causes us to be or not to be, depends on how much thought one gives to the matter.

Give a day to reason, give a day to understanding, give a

day to patience, give a day to happiness, give a day to love, give a day to peace, and a day to rest,

so you may see the pain of labor, and the sorrow of ruins.

Sometimes I'm viewed as cruel, tasteless, cold, mechanical, misplaced, but inside of me, outflows of tears overcome me, because of what has become of this world.

BY: Raphael G

Truth

                                             Truth

Let me rise with the words of truth,

Let me descend with the words of the same,

Give truth for breakfast,

Give truth for lunch,

Give me truth for dinner,

Give me truth in between and the night,

Give me truth in my dreams and nightmares,

Let me walk in the path of the light, and of darkness…

Like fire ignites, energizes let the truth be just as strong,

Let truth consume me, so that my call is

not be in vain,

I find truth or it will find me...there is no way out !

By : Raphael G Blasini

Loudness N silence

I will say this....silence is the greatest counterfeiter, and loudness a scream often not heard ! So I asked silence to make a defense...but sounds overpowered ! Be free in all the things, reconcile for the unspoken, interpret the loud cries in your path.

Raphael G

what dulls the senses II ?

 

what dulls the senses ?

Until death do us apart, or until insanity and grief carves a better outlet,
I want no part of neither one, I'm not a masochistic or on a joy ride for proving grounds.

I'm bless to know I can decipher my conscience, and since I'm material and imperfect I carry out my sentence, cautiously and under reason.
I slave for what is good and righteous...a resistor to broken will. There is no markers pointing to either directions. If my faith is challenged my Divine being shall cover for my weaknesses.
Yet I have not failed in my quest to understanding. My sacrifice is to my beloved...but God first, this much I know !
My Lord is very close at hand all the time as the enemy extends his madness...but I'm aware on its countless attempts. The Almighty Divine always at the scene...if God on my side whom against me ?
The superlative call is to the braves, those whom yearn and sigh, mourn the greater revelation. It is to them the ancient of ancient...eternal of old, that keeps the consuming fire alive...rosie, hot. If one stays the course of the conscience, your days will have no end.

Freewill or the challenge, what dulls the senses ?

Extremism, fanaticism, over-zealous..applying a perfect law to a imperfect body, blindly.

Carrying out the mandates to the point of exhaustion. I have reasons to amend a broken rhythm (my limited scope on what is superlative).
My contention, it takes a great plot to balance out the fine prints. In my insensible chase...the senses have yielded a fine tune conscience, that is the product to work with. I beg forgiveness by stretching the boundaries in my contemptible state...I await the superlative expression that which is bestow to my conscience !
06/14/17
Raphael G Blasini

what dulls the senses ?

                                         what dulls the senses ?     

Until death do us apart, or until insanity and grief carves a better outlet,

I want no part of neither one, I'm not a masochistic or on a joy ride for proving grounds.

I'm bless to to know I can decipher my conscience, and since I'm material and imperfect I carry out my sentence, cautiously  and under reason.

I slave for what is good and righteous...a resistor to broken will. There is no markers pointing to either directions. If my faith is challenged my Divine being shall cover for my weaknesses.

Yet I have not failed in my quest to understanding. My sacrifice is to my beloved...but God first, this much I know !

My Lord is very close at hand all the time as the enemy extends his madness...but I'm aware on his countless attempts. The Almighty Divine always at the scene...if God on my side whom against me ?

The superlative call is to the braves, those whom yearn and sigh, mourn the greater revelation. It is to them the ancient of ancient...eternal of old, that keeps the consuming fire alive rosie hot. If one stays the course of the conscience, your days will have no end.

Freewill or the challenge, what dulls the senses ?

Extremism, fanaticism, over-zealous..applying a perfect law to a imperfect body, blindly.

Carrying out the mandates to the point of exhaustion. I have reasons to amend a broken rhythm (my limited scope on what is superlative).

My contention, it takes a great plot to balance out the fine prints. In my insensible chase...the senses have yielded a fine tune conscience, that is the product to work with. I beg forgiveness by stretching the boundaries in my contemptible state...I await the superlative expression that which is bestow to my conscience !

06/14/17

Rafael G Gonzalez

Love where are you

                                            
                                     Love where are you

I can love you for your fine qualities,

I can love you for being a great life source (mother),

I can love you for your enduring character,

I can love you for being a faithful helper and guide,

I can love you for being a precious expression few will ever see,

I can write you love notes, and from where love resides, defines, remote and isolated...I find my dearest nest in sublime charm.

I can love you for eternity,

I can love you for a thousand of years,

I can wait and be the sacrifice for your guarantee,

True love is not flattery, because I’m not disconnected from myself. It is the superior quality of endowment for those whom truly search it and find the source!

I can also love you for what you're not, imperfect being chasing a desire so innate, far from understanding,

I will love and continue to love...here today, tomorrow paradise. Seeking the source, disrupting its presences until it grants me access to a yearning few will ever manage to undertake.

Love emanates radiant light (heat source) life is found at its core...it is Divine, superlative, infinite starlight and beyond. Enigmatic riddles, puzzles the restless searcher to standstill in deep freeze.

Love where are you ? Where can I find you ? I have missed you ! Yet you are ever present...warm and cozy, delightful, my soul has found refuge ! Let’s walk up and down the park...let us sing happy melodies of our encounter. Let us praise while we can...let me find you in my memory !

(C) right

04.18.17

Raphael G

Apostle Paul or me ?

2 Corinthians 12:7-10 is a passage where Paul has some profound things to say about the theme of strength in weakness. And I want us to begin by reading this passage.

 

(Paul the Apostle)

"to keep me from being too elated by the surpassing greatness of the revelations, a thorn was given me in the flesh, a messenger of Satan to harass me, to keep me from being too elated. Three times I pleaded with the Lord about this, that it should leave me. But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me. For the sake of Christ, then, I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities. For when I am weak, then I am strong".  

 

 

(me, a vessel)

If I’m weak in the flesh and yet chosen, ordain to do the powerful work’s of the spirit, then the spirit bears my weakness in the flesh. And if the spirit contends with my weakness I have become powerful. If the spirit actuates my life force, then I have overcome my greatest adversary. For it has become my strong-hold, in my contemptible state.

So being weak in the flesh, and contemptible...the spirit takes pleasure that I have fought a great battle in my extremities. Left for dead...died many times, yet powerful to on-looker’s, humble in understanding.

Internalized by my conflict, and much aware of how its utilized, weaponized against me, here again is my helper. The power over the spirit working it’s ancient secret formula. The flesh and weakness have become silent in their activities as the faith bears all, supports it all...that we have overcome and never left behind.

So what is asked of us ? We don’t indulge in the flesh or weakness, yet their ever present ! Does the helper take pleasure in our lowest point ? See for yourself, if He adopted us in our lowest point, certainly his goal would be to make us greater in our highest ! Men/Woman of little faith, how many times can a heart break, and how many times can it mend ? If He can see through all our short-unsightliness, why can’t we ?

Raphael G

Early Blossom

            Early Blossom

In anticipation of early morning mist, curled up in her nest of twigs, twines, and thorns...evergreens, there lays dormant the most precious expression. Waiting the shift...daylight, nocturnal muse dazzles laughter through the air.

So whispered the jasmines, and so whispered the lilies, and so whispered the daffodils, and so whispered the rose (early blossom)...the tulips and carnations, gaily exchange of the guard!

Creation laud and praise the fine tuning of vibrational harmony, flower beds of color and fragrance chant, guide the foot-steps of invisible host.

Sunlight pierce the threshold of early blossom’ and so come to life, audience drunk in joy and laughter.

All the commotion invisible too the grounds keeper, all obvious to the host,

Sun-dance...rain-dance, songs of jubilee collaborate a kaleido-spectacle, only to the few ! Many are the blessings pouring her way, like rain showers to a special expression of delight...inspiringly awesome, Divinely crafted !

Seasons of change whither my presences...but between me and my host, vibrational harmony is root deep.

In the next resurrection early blossom, the garden shall play...and so whispered all creation in submission to a grand scheme.

Only the choicest is found lodging in GOD'S tent, and you're one of them.

A Divine host irreconcilable yearn to nourish the spark woven deep into the sacred spiral, for all expression to declare his glory. In the pipe-lines of life, remote in the sacred chamber God’s (YHWH) work shop, you are his love Joy ! His beloved child !

BY : Raphael G

A true Rose (Gem)

                                      a true rose (Gem)

I shall live among the forest trees, and in the forest might's.
I shall live among the desert's cold, and the desert's heat.

I will reside in open plains or in close range, in majestic gardens, or in furnished mountains,
I will stand my grounds and humbly display my strength.
In red, pink, white, and in thorns I'm arrayed to me nothing goes unnoticed, and why not? blossom away.
Fear not my thorns for every thing gentle also carries great might, and my creator is an example of that.
My greatest reward comes when given to someone who waters me and understands how hard it is,when not loved.
The seasons come and they go each complimenting one another, but I'm the lonely subject to my
environment. Being me is my toughest trial and remaining is my biggest accomplishment.
 

BY: Raphael G

Projections

What projection one finds more appealing ? The outer shell (materialistic being ) or the inner shell (spiritualistic being )? The outer shell is here today and gone tomorrow...the inner shell is here today and remains forever, eternalized in mass energy.

The question will query the answers on what foundations one builds enduring or perishable expectations. Again the question will probe a heart condition, predetermined or yielding accordingly to knowledge gained on one's projections.

The balancing act absorbs the mass energy in projections, when trivial is first and question secondary. Of what significance is gaining the world and losing the most valuable ? In our formless state, during time absent of guidance (unguided energy) by laws beyond our reach the miracle begins, energies attract energies to the point we become material....but energy first.

Being that we are materialistic and spiritualistic...why is a higher energy (power) attracted to the inner shell ? And is there a condescending attachment to which we are not synchronized with ? As human beings we are inseparable to both...yet there is higher leaning at best towards the inner shell (spiritualistic) self why ? In our formless state, then material, energy, programming is absent...during our incubation period projection come in the form passed from generation, after generation implants and gifts that become question and answers in gained or loss knowledge.

So we have this yearning, innate, superlative gift expressive as conscience, the ever awaken other half which becomes a pathway into transcendency. To be fully aware or at least able to manage the wide over-load of these projections, one must have accurate knowledge...this being the safe guard to which becomes the light itself, without crashing the fragile gains we so much take to granted.

Where can I go from your Spirit? Where can I flee from your presence? In other words energies is always manifesting in our lives, For you created my inmost being;
you knit me together in my mother’s womb (sacred Chamber). I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that fully well.

Coincidences is a word I rarely use when it comes to energies, its almost impossible for opposites to make lasting bonding connections to each other. So the product that you have become, may not be the final product to which you are called. Let me explain...to fully deploy our senses and gifts, during the incubation period some malevolent lost energies have misplaced errors in the genetic codes through tinkering with those divine expressions. 

We are not half the projection we are meant to be...and then there is choice. The superlative expression is not absent of conscience...never. It actually seeks the choicest energies on which to merge. It is an ongoing process of time consuming separation, some will find themselves through trial and chance while others inherit more expressive vibrations. In the long run the ultimate goal is finding you, and not conceding to the primordial lost energies to which we are all subjects...one way or the other.

We find everyday that something is fighting us, or we are fighting it. Call it what you elect to relate, and then we move on. Its not that simply its very persistent, hanging around until our last death stroke. It is subtle...benign, almost to the point we consider it part of our make-up of the twist and turns, reasons the gullible slave to which you are the call. Confuse and distracted from the daily routines we, some how by-pass true meaning and its disguise.

Again the age old conspiracy manifest disguise and meaning in the form of active or passive energies, the inexperienced become the prefer target since they are still trying to harness the greater expression. No matter the many transformation it plots, we are summons with deep rooted divine gifts to counter some very sophisticated projections, only the few will ever chart its' pathway to really break free. Its a challenge for the choicest expression woven with special characters deep in the sacred chambers...the workshop of a superlative spiritual guide.

By : Raphael G

03/17/17

Life's source

                                      Life source

Women are like the flower beds on the prairies,

they enhance the visual and stimulate the senses,

like peaks and curves of the mountain tops,

like the valleys and evergreen pastures...a delightful kaleidoscope of reflective 

lights that bounce back with charm  and inquisitive intrigues,

like a meadow in endless rejuvenation,

 a waterfall in parched regions,

an oasis of never-ending want,

like shades and shadows tossed dancing dusk-to-dawn,

nocturnal roost daylight dew native and foreign visitor's fragrance chant,

sun-dance, rain-dance collaborate the seasons,

She is a kaleidoscope of charm and chant,

She is like a complex maze and puzzles, that lead to a wealth of findings and intrigue.

She is a continuous melody' that resonates like the pounding of my heart, through-out the day and night.

Like a fresh spring breeze that last many seasons,

She is like a cascade that echoes in water-less regions, bringing to life anything in it's path.

She stands alone in the presence of many, in silence she instructs her audience.

She is an inspiration of thoughts, a pool of resources.

a true gem that host the endless commotions in the eyes of a grand scheme, a perfectas love joy."


God almighty surely out did himself in creating a fine companion, for his first creative off-spring.
 
(C) Right
Raphael G

Admirer's reproach

Admirer’s Reproach

“Why did you leave the window open?

Were you expecting a stranger in the night?
Every day I sit by the front door way, you past by like I wasn't there;
Yet your fragrances are fresh like morning dew I know better.
Your never lonely in your house angels guard your safe keeping.
Go ahead ask me where I have been? I tell you things just keep happening,
I must speak of what I have abandon, the vaulted sky the earth below, shadows tossed, and the land of broken dreams.

If I could find comfort for just a while it would be in the corner stairways;
Leading to my admirer’s reproach! Like autumn’s foliage that chariots to their winter bed,
Where is my resting place for today? Like dust driven away my soul finds no refuge…I have become tired, exhausted in my quest to reveal the sacred spiral, who is worthy in my madness?
 

Lead me captive in the sorrows of my beloved strange host where the sun rises from the Far East touching my deeps wounds. 

The many whom my strangeness admired, but stranger than none; here to abide with it in my strange loved. I lay me down until my next resurrection in the near coming spring the day of my birth many years ago when my father woven me in the secret place, not troubling where I sweetly slept.”

 She's a kaleidoscope of charm and chant,

she's like a complex maze and puzzles,

that lead to a wealth of findings and intrigue.

She's like a continuous melody that resounds like the pounding of my heart,

like a fresh spring breeze that last many seasons.

She's like a cascade that echoes in waterless regions, bringing to life anything

in its path.

She's stands alone in the presences of many, in silence she instructs her audience,

she's an inspiration of thoughts...a pool of resources, silence surrounds me as she goes about her way.
 
From the Far East a descending voice toss in the wind made its way on a long journey towards the west, From Its interpretation I was able to decipher its codes and well meant meaning. I became enchanted and eager to reveal, relentless and compulsive in what maybe its true secrets. 

I felt again promoting the rituals the heart only understand and feels, I resigned in holding back the inspiration once again. I embrace like a young child if this maybe real and worthy of conspiring with or just another natures play. Nature has many healing ways so I trust and let go of any preconceived agenda and ideas, to the amazement of my innocence,

What a treat to a child still embracing and holding true to a ritual little understood’. Within time the soft voice from the Far East continue its presentation and disclosed the paradox for which it was sent. If words where hard to find than it was certainly here that I began my stutter and stammering, a person of my endowment lost for words and thought. 

Hear me O’ wind allied of mysteries and revealer of mix thoughts bring to me your irony or paradox, hold back nothing that is worthy of inquiry and that can be of purpose and instruction. Help me find hope, as I long for the await scene of truth, happiness, love, compassion, mercy and the spirit that guides it. Deliverer of dreams tossed; show me the pathway to this wonderful journey of ruse and fascination.

BY: Raphael G

Love Arts secrecy

There are people with great energies that one can feel, I in particular feed into these energies, because our bodies is the personification of energies. One can sum the universe as the ultimate expression dynamic power...so we in turn are like a power plant or reactors. So I find this energy hidden or very visible it kinds of draws me in...it just my gifts of having greater access to these charges.

Love Arts Secrecy

Silently she whispered, like an echo I heard,

Silently she approached me, and silence I became,

Silently her heart thumped, and like a thunder I perceived,

In silence she loved me, and in silence I accept,

In silence her fragrance searched for me, and in silence they found me,

In silence she cried and in silence she laughed,

When her eye's looked at me, I became speechless,

all my earned talents and wisdom, were drained as she stared,

I became stunned like lightening striking me, silence and dumbness surrounded me.

Her walks resemble the mighty iron-horse, and her body movements a well orchestrated symphony.

I need you more then I, need food for you're my food of life.

I need to see you, just as I, need to see through a narrow road.

There's been stories of liking and loving, but ours is special !

I need to touch you to understand you're flesh, for you look so heavenly.

I need to feel your breath for it feels like the springs air in the lovely night.

When you touch me, you cure my pains, sorrows, sores, wounds, and even supply energy.

BY : Raphael G

April 9?

Copy right

Bachelor's Dream

A Bachelor's Dreams

Show mercy towards me, soften your heart and make room in your treasures of compassion for me. I speak to you from my heart, that my greatest desires and anxieties is to have your approval so I, may exercise my goodness and loving kindness to you in a unlimited way.

I have set before me an oath that what ever becomes me, to get to you will be uprooted out. I have set before me an oath, that even the mightiest oak must bend for you are to much to let go by.

I belief that in every one of us there is goodness, and I relay on your supply to give me an opportunity to show you, the difference between he who has, and he who doesn't the difference between sadness and rejoice.

If I were to be judged, let me, be judged because of my words and not my actions.

If I were to be ignored let it be because of a time barrier and not because of persistence.

If I were to be considered let it be because I, speak the truth and God has guide my way.

If I were to be shamed let it be before my eyes for we all can grow and learn.

As the day goes by I, wonder whether it leaves a pace on which to follow, and as the years pass by I, become sadden as my dreams comes and goes and I, not able to grasp it.

If I, were to offend let it be known and I, will prostrate before you, let us meet as warriors for righteousness, reason, mercy, compassion, and kindness.

If I, were to be replace I'm slowly terminated by grief or failure, I'm also happy to state that very few could replace you, maybe none. For a fine companion who can find it?

Let presumptuousness rest in patience, in time, in love, in deeds.

May sound wisdom and discernment be to your enjoyment, and the words of the wise be your enlightenment. Dear young one until we meet again for never is a long time.

BY: Raphael G

Steadfast reaching out

                   Steadfast reaching out

One can find themselves easy, if adjusting to a superficial environment is easy contention ! Where are the adjustments ?

But the unseen, sighing... and yearns with words un-uttered (unspoken). It collaborates with messengers, and porters to herald the words. Partially digested, patiently it awaits...awaits for the total consume and nourishment.

In place are a chess-board of players, each one moves accordingly to the chess-masters wishes. The play-ground and field in turn becomes the host to which moves are made, to fill vacuums and gaps...subjects in a Kabuki drama oblivious comma,

Ancient drama, players the same, millennium's in the making, hour glass sifting, markers and signs all to obvious. Nations in parallel, masses awakens, consumer and destroyer ever present, a menace to yearn sighing the unuttered.

A call is made...I hear...I feel...sounds, frequencies, vibrations, colorful spectrum's of lights, I reach the same...why I'm I here ? Nourish with completeness of sacred expressions moves the player.

The benevolent host unuttered the scheme, foundations shakes...playing fields rearrange, the play-ground fruitful, never the forgotten. The endless cycle...or so it seems, what do they do ? Trapped in the belly of a time capsule allotted wishes that never metastasize ! Able bodies in trivial matters, charger at the gauntlet...the other side the unspeakable !

Restless in the quest to remain the under nourished, the contention tailor made or made to order...the host running thin makes for the next move ! Selection, choices, calls not for the many.

03/08/17

By: Raphael G

Motherly Rescued

Motherly rescued

There is a time when man looses hope and inspiration, he finds very little comfort in his surroundings,

He somehow manages to stay afloat in the environment in which he chooses to reside.

Life to him is not so important as he ponders the effects of death, man goes and carry on his relentless pursue in finding meaning to his life,

He encounters beauty in the world where the earth is constantly being destroyed of God's purpose's, and still memories rekindle his vision about where to start again in the journey for honor, respect, loyalty, horsemanship.

Man have a sense of awareness, he knows about all things and spirituality is his greatest call, he rekindles and reaffirm...himself because of his adversaries have torn away his last strong hold, but yet his spirit is uplifted from others whom he see's as himself.

There is a cry louder than heaven it reaches God's throne, God is a just God, he hears our whispers also our thoughts, nothing goes unnoticed in the web He wove.

If man calls on God, he must not fear life or death, these two go hand to hand with his purpose.

Night follows day and day follows night a paradox, filled with meaning and disguise.

If we man or women call on Him, it will require a great sacrifice from those whom call on him. Some day ones faith will save him or challenge his or her devotion. Life is a privilege it holds many wonders, surprises, intrigues, fascinations, and a world of untold riches of spiritual gifts, eternity and God's blessings so as to marvel at his creation.

A man is God's image, women are an extension of God's tender side of compassion, I wish God was my mother to really understand my greatest want! Someday a door will open and many will be called, I hope to find the true warriors at the other side. Someday a call will empower me to venture forth as a spiritual warrior for God Almighty. Man for now yearn to find hope and inspiration to move hand and hand with God's choir.

Sept.97

The leader's regard

                                           The leader’s regard

Today, tomorrow, maybe a few days more we can endure. Some
of us will fall back do to weakness, or can’t bear it any longer,
to those still standing I give support and those dead make me stride a bit further.

Soon life will pass by and the pack will dismiss their woes, but I see harder days to go. Here I stand contemplating my path, for every death there is life and for every life there is joy and for every joy also sadness.

Victory doesn’t belong to he that claims it, but to he who tries.
I long to see does who felt short here and me there,because after all the struggles there was no reward. Here I stand and as the sun gives to shaded , my cries will be on a different note.


BY: Raphael G

Dilemma of the desire

                      DILEMMA OF THE DESIRE

My young years have flown by like migratory birds which will never return,

All things I, desire to do and yet not accomplished,

My desire is a great pain in my intestines and bones, that feed on me and though there isn't no greater desire, that road also has its Burdens,

Those I, rely on and associate with have been of no significant help but despair. Though I don't condemn them for they to ride a similar road,

My surroundings are like a prison which I, constantly war against because of circumstance. Many lost can be attributed to my surroundings,

I daily question why things go this way, and is there a purpose? I'm flatter of how life has been for me, and I, look ahead for more surprises as I, struggle to fulfill my desire.

BY: Raphael G

Sept.1992

infinite quotes

To the many surprise that life offers, the only surprise to me is the lost of a true friend.

To the many roads that spread before us, the inexperienced claims victory.

To understanding, discernment, and wisdom the righteous knowledge has been revealed, and the path of such ones is like the light of the morning sun that gets brighter and brighter as the day draws to a close.

By : Raphael G

The weight of talent

                                      The weight of talent

Far beyond our scope of reason there lays comfort,

Beyond our maturing minds we find a host of complex reasoning,

As our experience increases we are set free or imprisoned by the offset of outcome,

As time presses on we embrace for a new challenge,

we are as vulnerable as the last subject who conceived a brighter tomorrow,

Who among us can grasp the wind?

Who among us can see the sound?

Who among us can dictate the time?

We must press on with unwavering conviction that a true gesture is our only allied, and that our only escape from the falsehood that heavily entangles our motives is not to concede.

The character of many is refined through a process, the good deeds become a blurry cloud that obscures our vision,

We know so much and yet so little, so little and yet find a way. Can a physically blind man see a physical realm?

And does a thinker becomes weighted down because his projection of thought?

If I’m wrong condemn me, if I’m right execute a judgment.

By : Raphael G

Reflections

DAYS FOR REJOICE AND WEEPING

The nomads rejoice when they see newly land,

The elder widow rejoice when she sees newly weds,

The new born cries because of future sorrow,

The peasant rejoice when he sees the rainy season,

The married couple are sad, because her sterile womb can't

produce,

The criminal is guilty of a crime he doesn't understand,

Low in spirit is the heart breaker for he has lost his touch.

The poor and the rich have embarked in a race, they both will greet in the end.

The days are long, the nights are short, life passes by and so does our dreams.

There are times, things we most hope on, comes and crushes the expectation of what could have been but isn't.

I look around to comprehend the seasons, each one brings a message, even the wind tells about the future.

I stared at the birds, to listen to their interpretations, they cry and weep, rejoice and reflect of what brings the next day.

At times what causes us to be or not to be, depends on how much thought you gave to the matter.

Give a day to reason, give a day to understanding, give a

day to patience, give a day to happiness, give a day to love, give a day to peace, and a day to rest,

so you may see the pain of labor, and the sorrow of ruins.

Sometimes I'm viewed as cruel, tasteless, cold, mechanical, misplaced, but inside of me, outflows of tears overcome me, because of what has become of this world.

BY: Raphael G