Sun Salutation

asset(187).png

I feel the ecstasy of the moment taking over my every thought, the lightness of my breath ascending me to a higher place, a deeper version of myself. Liberating temptation, I surrender to this moment and this moment alone. As I free my spirit, I feel the birth of life take over. Creeping shadows of the past lose control over the mobility of my body, as I become a pure stream of flowing water. Dripping, lucid…an endless swim into the arms of dreams long left unexplored. Dream upon dream, I travel with open wings like an eagle soaring above myself before I awaken. Lest I forget the magic of this moment, I capture my heart’s images like scenes from a movie. Memory pouring onto the canvas of my mind, I recollect it all through art. Motion, emotion one after the other. Meeting a laugh or cry halfway. I no longer pretend to forget…remember it all I do. In the falling abyss of time, I dress fragments with color. With music, I bless it all with sound. Gratitude…the good and bad all an equal tell of sharing. Now do I understand the teaching of it all…it finally makes sense in the twists and turns of my mind. I am finally climbing, upstream. Up and higher do I race past all obstacles. High on high do I comprehend the messages I saw in signs. Symbols in trees, painted in caves long lost mountains ancestors still sing the same song over and over again. I hear the pounding beat of the drum…incense still burning the air with truth. Footsteps echo in my toes, I feel the dance lifting the idleness of my present step. Free at last. I move, move to the call of my own self. Gentle at first…one push at a time, speaking solely to myself…wake…wake…WAKE UP! A mirror assists my voice, showing me parts of me…some I recognise…some I do, truly do…with blurry vision my eyes squint. I see you. I know you. I am you. This is me, full and new. Oh, how I’ve grown. Pride, I am proud. But more much more than this humble. My head tilting a fair share of sky and land…I know who I am…I know…who I am.

 

© Nicoletta

Photo by: Alexandra Van Zutphen 

follow me @theowlswiseeyespoetry on instagram for daily poetry 

Who am I?

alice1951-bluray-04

Really? All in all: who am I? We might ask ourselves this question often; or never at all. We might look at ourselves in the mirror and think that’s who we are. That by looking at our image we’ve discovered the big mystery of understanding ourselves. Or through the eyes of our lovers, we might believe we’ve received a representation of who we are. Through their understanding, we believe that to be the truth about our identity. Their observations, criticisms, judgments even their own personal insecurities become our own. As if we didn’t have a mind of our own, we give our self power away to others, thinking they respect us for doing so. But in a truthful slap in the face, the only thing we gain where we abdicate our personal power is the sting. Our cheeks are left burning bright red, from the sheer power of our own weakness. It is not the eyes of others that will give us merit of some kind. Not the person you share your bed with, nor your business partner, not even your mother or brother or you name who will tell you “this is who you are.” They can attempt to do so. In in their attempt, you may be tricked into believing that is the truth.

“You are a failure” will poison you for years, unless you wake up and call it’s bluff.
The same goes for “You are the best at everything you do.” Now you may ask, what’s wrong with a compliment like that? But if you take a strong grip on that statement, it can boost your morale to the level of a blindfolded lion that can’t see the upcoming cliff ahead. Getting too full of yourself will not help you in any way, nor give you the answer to who I am. It will leave you in a self-inflicted illusion where you think you are better than others.
Humans tend to imitate others emotions to try to fit into modern society. This is also triggered by social media and trends, where people try to be other people so that they can be accepted. We copy others behaviors thinking it is “cool” to do so because of the fear of being rejected for being different. But the irony is, we aren’t even being different by not following society’s expectations of “this is how you should be”. We are just being ourselves. Yet, the idea of just being yourself stirs so much fear, as the vulnerable, naked character is prone to judgment by attempting to be authentic. When all masks and facades are removed, that is when we step out of character and actually become us for a change. Just the idea of not being liked for who we are, causes us to step back into character and role play, in order to gain acceptance from other people.
So we adjust our talk, our likes, dislikes, our appearance so that others will give us a thumbs up, or press the like button on our social media. We even program ourselves to think in a certain manner and act in a certain way. Almost like a computer code, we download what will be a socially accepted self into our being and robotically act upon it.
The time has come to put an end to this crap. Excuse my non-poetic diction, but that is what we’ve come down to being. A pile of smelly, fly-buzzing crap. As blunt as that. And if we don’t clean up this mess, I don’t know who will. The other day I was watching “Idiocracy” and thought to myself, despite the extremes, humanity is sadly starting to reflect that movie. We are giving our power away to large corporations, allowing them to poison the food we eat, the air we breathe, forcing us into modern day slavery, selling us the false illusion that we’re free. All we care about is becoming “educated” in a system which chooses what to spoon feed children, to train them to find good work and pay, education which doesn’t even allow the freedom of thought. And we accept it all without a blink in the eye. All past attempts of reform, were considered crazy or the people were prosecuted under false crime accusations or even killed. The worst of all criminals, people attempting to change the medical structure, pharmaceutical companies obliging people to depend on the green snake for cure, seducing people into thinking they cannot cure themselves. Religion, attempting to control people on their mission on earth and how it will directly effect the beyond. The life after this one; even the imagination of that is taken away from us. We are give prescriptions and without questioning it, we drink it up. Enough is enough.
Who am I?
For a minute, even a second, forget about those three words just asked. Forget about everything just read. Forget about if you agree or disagree. About the food you just ate or are going to eat. What you will do later on, or tomorrow or next week.
For a moment, right now, just feel your beating heart. The rising and falling of your breath. The silence of your mind. Concentrate on nothing else but these gifts.

You are alive. And you are you. Just remember that, in case someone ever asks you: Who are you?

owl

© Nicoletta

Rippling Touch

Creek_thumb[5]

The gentle rush of water,
Every drop filled with love.
A unison of peace and serenity,
Upon each ripple.

A harmonious symphony,
Each splash revealing a message from above.
To the common ear a simple, mundane sound;
For the majestic flow only unveils itself to believers.

Those blessed with not two eyes but three,
Are rewarded with the heavenly melody.
Angelic laughter can be heard; a tingling, joyous sensation.
Like the pure heart of an innocent child.

The chimes of mystical fairies ring as they giggle and twinkle.
Flashing a rainbow of extravagance, as they waltz with their fated partners.
The power of the embrace,
Transcending realms of space.

The past, present, future all merged in one.
For in the hypnotic flow of waves,
Time is merely an elusive concept.
Ancient, classical tones creep in contemporary tunes.
Altering, shaping them as they flash distant memories.

Everything can be remembered among the falls of water.
Hidden worlds from conscious memory spark to life,
As streams cleanse blurry, blinded eyes.
Enhancing vision with each rippling touch.

© Nicoletta

Blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑