Truthfully, My Soul Longs

truthfully, my soul longs

for the warm embrace of faith in something bigger,

just as much as it rejects

the cold handshake of the vengeful God

(or a God’s vengeful believers,

depending how you see it).

no, i seek not religion;

like the atoms of my very being

i crave the emergence of crystals.

could i be greater than the sum of my parts?

is there a someone

or a something

who walked through the dingy magick store of space-time

and rifled through the gently clinking boxes of rocks and gems

and somehow

amongst the clutter and sparkle

chose to pick me up,

dust me off,

and take me home?

am i to one day be displayed

on the trinket shelf of the universe?

perhaps this is the journey of life:

being carried softly home

and placed amongst the precious things

as a tender voice says

“oh, aren’t you beautiful?”

is this what you always want me for?

Commonwealth Bank

The moon hangs outside my window at all hours.

Yellow diamond, perpetual half-waning, projecting his own light in.

It breaks through my curtains;

I cannot sleep.

There was a time when it was smaller

rarer

softer in it’s brilliance

a kinder visitor

a personal friend.

I liked her more, then.

freddy newandyke <3

researchers at MIT have proven their hypothesis that "eyeballin' it" is the most accurate form of measurement

scenes from ireland