Tag Archives: Spirituality

“Pain throws your heart to the ground, Love turns the whole thing around, fear is a friend whose misunderstood, but I know the heart of life is good.” ~ <3 John Mayer <3

I have come to the end of the first week of the Artist’s Way. I’ve enjoyed this week immensely. As if creatively I am freed I find myself beginning to tromp around familiar mental ground that I have not visited in some time. My philosophical curiosity is back at an all time high, and I feel more spiritual than I have in months.

I sit at my desk staring out at the cold winter world outside my window. The way the trees look against the sky, the way the fallen leaves lay on the ground, the plastic snowflakes my mother hung on the window as decoration all speak to me. It may seem silly, but it makes me feel filled with warmth. I feel connected once more to the world around me and it is a wonderful feeling. More importantly, I feel more connected to myself, that beautiful little girl who fell in love with the world around her. The little girl who loved the smaller universes hiding beneath rocks, and the bigger universe sung in the stars.

It feels good to be here, to be present, to be in the now. It feels good to feel like an artist, a philosopher, to feel human. If you ever get to read this, Thank you Julia Cameron for introducing my eyes to the familiar way I seemed to have lost.

“Knowing others is wisdom, knowing yourself is enlightenment” ~Lao Tzu

And thank you to the Great Creator for allowing me to connect to you once more.

To all who read this. Namaste.

Peace,
Kris



“Poetry is when an emotion has found its thought and the thought has found words.” ~Robert Frost

~ Ladybug  Ladybird ~

"A scarlet Lady with blemished wings"

A Mother’s Advice

She flies free, this lady with blemished wings;
a scarlet lady in a field of Greens.

She climbs–He bends–The wind begins to sing:
“No M’lady there are still more to seek.”

She’s re-learning to fly, happy and free.
Suddenly–FLASH– she’s netted down by Red.

His scent was strong and his beauty screamed,
but the guard of thorns made the tears she bled.
“No, M’lday, there is still more to seek.”

Carried to limbs, wings weary and broken,
he sways from his roots to lull her to sleep.
She sleeps while love’s words are at last spoken,

“Lady bug Lady bug you are not alone,”
“Lady Bug, Dear Lady Bug, Welcome Home.”

—  Kris E. King —
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