Time keeps ticking on
Bringing with it a subtle sense of panic
For a life not fully lived,
Tasks still to be completed,
Fulfillment of dreams still out of reach
So much still to do
Before the sun rises on a new day,
Before the passage of time
Has more space between the seconds
In the meantime,
We can fit more love into the minutes
Stretch them out
And make the days grow longer
From the love that’s poured within
It’s the only way we know
To quell the human panic,
Live the myth of life fulfilled with time,
And live a life fulfilled with Love
The Angels remind us to listen and respond to the dreams, wishes, and desires of our hearts, for they are our true north.
When did they first clip your wings?
When did you go to fly,
Like you’d done so many times before
And instead of soaring,
Fell, lifeless, to the ground?
When did you learn that flying high
Is too threatening for some,
So you shouldn’t – you didn’t – fly at all?
And when did that moment come,
When the pain of not flying,
The phantom pain of forgotten wings,
Became too much to bear?
When did you no longer have a choice but continue to suffer
Or uncover that which had seemingly been lost,
To delicately unfold those withered wings,
Longing for devotion,
And see if they could still hold
The weight of your dreams?
The Angels remind us that the “proof is in the pudding”. Action is always required to accomplish our goals and dreams. We can’t sit on the sidelines hoping something will happen or change. All dreams require our active participation. And remember, rest is an action too.
The Angels remind us thatthe dreams that seem just beyond our reach can be found inside, alive and well and waiting to be born. Stop reaching outward; dive inward instead to bring dreams to life.
In the still of the dawn
When the haze of slumber is still upon the world
Creatures start to come alive
Light hints of its arrival on the horizon
Shadows seem to whisper to the moon
And to our hearts
Those of us who dare to rise so early
And take in the gentle stirrings of the ‘morn
Feel the veil lift from midnight’s spirits
As day turns into work, worry, and stress
With the occasional brush of wings on the back of a hand
A gentle reminder of the peace of dreams
And the freedom of the hazy dawn