While Reading… May Your Healing Breaths Flow During &
Between The Poems. Experience Your Divine Self’s Magic.
Letting my stress release. Silly me holding so much onto a thought. Imagining any stress disappear in a poof of smoke. Poof.
Poetry is a beautiful way to heal myself. The pen delicately touches my soul in a way harsher discourse might not. My non-threatening feather pen flows. Less delicate therapeutic modalities partially freeze my heart. My subconscious magical angel nurtures my soul with penetrating wisdom.
Anxiously I wait. Then I feel nature’s enchanting breeze on my body. My magical breath returns. Almost forgot what I was anxious about.
Love drifting with imaginative poetry. Beautiful wind in nature, liberating my soul from worries. Reconnecting with my true inner essence.
Accepting What Happens To Be In The Moment
Finding the sweet spot with other likeminded souls. Not having to try so hard. Things being nice just as they beautifully are.
Being less attached. Finding peace in letting things have a life of their own, instead of hoping things were different.
Everything is just the way it is. Bypassing giving things labels. Releasing myself from mental constraints….the beautiful magical dimension flows.
The nuance of your gently graceful touch. Without pressuring me to be in a certain way. Accepting and loving each other just as we are.
You open and free my soul in a way I can’t easily alone. Love how you make me feel vulnerable to your magic.
Ahh… looking at your beauty. You being just as you are.
Sexually seeing each other eye to eye. Pleasure while we jockey for something by way of dominance. Can’t we be equal?
My heart yearns for you.
Might our eyes gracefully embrace each other. Your soft-spoken words are magic.
Discovering a little part of you that awakens magic. Our tingling interlude in the safe pleasure knowing I’ll only go so far.
I’m alone craving for sweet gentle affection. Then as strangers we meet in passing. While you have only given me a deep glance of more than a few moments, it helps fill my heart. Thank you for giving me more than you might realize.
I dream we can connect in beautiful energy. I fear my gentle yearning for you might be faintly noticed in the busy cacophony of your otherwise empty modern life.
Living Two Dimensions:
While that mind of mine understands those practical realities we banter about, my heart yearns to focus elsewhere. Desiring the sublime dimension, we could instead share. My weakening knees softly call.
I talk with people in passing. And there are those possessing interestingly deep souls from all ages and walks of life. I dream we by some chance, and without pressure, enjoy the sweet opportunity to know each other deeply.
Intelligence. When connecting the dots others don’t see. I want to share. But don’t want to disrupt their version of reality. I’m experiencing two realities – ones each of us see differently.
Being Or Projecting Feelings:
While there may always be an element of projection, it’s sad so many people do little more than project feelings. To “project” or “be” in poetically beautiful states of mind.
A bull may banter about being “authentic” like proudly raising a flag. I treasure connecting without always taking a stand. Feeling starved for connecting with an angel.
Copy and paste from what they heard around. Lacking ingenuity. When spoken to by others we are propelled like puppets to nod our heads in unison as the Automator speaks. All without delicate passion, coupled with frustration, in having to go through the moves to be polite.
Their Hollow Conversations
Seeing shapes clearly defined from their words which feel semi hollow. More related shapes follow onward. The hollowness correlates with the hollowness I feel within. Preferring a deeper inner experience while they are immersed with their shapes about a time other than the present moment. Not that their shapes are unimportant on the practical dimension, but when can the higher divine level we live for return?
Poems On Life:
How Might I Take On Projects?
With flow, might I do things in long smooth strides, or with energetic spurts? Often i prefer taking time…relaxing in between. Curiously flowing forward. Enjoying the trip.
Holding Back Love:
With open arms I wish to blissfully connect with others. But we hold back. Sadly, society teaching us to suspect kindness in others. Trained to expect others’ ulterior motives. Suspicion is that albatross holding back our graceful lives from unfolding. Feeling trapped until we get past distrust. Dreaming our spring is turning the corner.
Steve Kays, poet
Kindly reach Steve with your therapeutic poems for publication. Enlightening feedback desired. Ring
1+ 707 690.0844 (anytime).