Lost
My Attention
Riot of peace
Currency to pay
My best companion
Fountain of joy
The Observer
Gone away
Kidnapped
Wafted off like smell
Forgotten-what are you?
Wooed away
Trapped
Stuck
Wrapped up by emotions
Squeezed out my mind
Daily Post
Daily Prompt:
Most Prized Possession:
National Poetry Writing Month
NaPoWriMo:
waywardspirit 
Any recommendations for a successful rescue mission?
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Smell and taste roses and food
Taste silence
A daily practice.
Watching yourself like you watch a loved one, smiling.
Noticing how you are feeling now.
Feel your deepest sweetest compassion for yourself.
Save and invest some of what little of this currency you have. It grows, you get richer. : )
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As always, thank you for your insights. I like how you’ve redefined wealth – perhaps that’s one of the keys to ensuring that our artists no longer starve.
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you are all of the above that you have written –
you have built the walls that you must overcome
flavored by the desires that burn in your breast
the taste of your own freedom
roses have their own thorns
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Don’t ever stop doing this.
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I’ve found it! You left it here when you visited last; it’s got a bit dusty – found it behind the settee, don’t know how it got there. I’ll send it back to you … oh, where did I put it …?
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sometimes the noise of the world needs to rest, while the noise of being drowns it out, and feeds its own fire.
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Yes, that fairy door inward, hidden in silence.
I figure you have experienced this.
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I think the world teaches most survivors about this door. The world is both a wonderful and monstrous place. Making any sense of both often requires a place of quiet where one can first clear the mind and finally think.
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After that it’s a matter of time and kindness received.
You seem to understand. : )
It’s alchemy. : )
You are gold.
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Think yes, and feel. : )
On Sun, Apr 28, 2013 at 8:56 PM, waywardspirit
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