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Our Own Ways

Different Paths Before Day

Like old times, we conversed amongst Jackson palms; but this night was different, it was more like meeting you for the first time. When I looked into your eyes, someone else was looking back. You once illuminated my world, but on that night, you were just a dimming light. I was overwhelmed by your vibes, and I tried my hardest not to cry. Thinking to myself, "my God, she's gone;" now she puts it out there, and I'm just watching her come undone. No respect, no self to identify, she seeks attention from those I was once suspicious of. It's a trip to look in from out, to see how situations turn around. The city life could be fun, but it's there you end up farther from free. In the lands, I found the answers when I felt many suns, understanding in the shades of the wisest of trees. It hurts to see you stuck in third while I'm now in fourth density. Hopefully, soon you wake from this dream state, and reflect from within. And when you do I'll be waiting on the rocks, all the way up stream. Follow the dragonflies, to our mother's water, in this sacred place we will swim. It's not too late, you just went off the path of a journey we once embarked upon. I could only proceed for so long before the darkness of night had befallen upon me. My other love, my moon, along with her surrounding constellations, can only light my path for so long before disappearing under the canopy of the trees of wisdom. I, too, went off path and let my senses navigate. Peering up through breaks in the canopy, I can see my love looking for me. Pulling me like the ocean, she knows my element is water; until she couldn't any longer. God's choir chirps in the night, and with my primitive senses open and active, the crickets sang in harmony; they must be Angels. Night skies from black to blue tell me he is arriving and soon his purest light will illuminate my path and his warmth I will bask in. The Sun of the morning provides so much to all, so pay no mind to what you've learned. One day the drapes will fall, and fear not for we shall feel. Slight Confusion, for his love for us is beyond what we ever conceived as Real.

Read next: Comfortable
Gabriel Garcia

A once Insipid individual struck by misfortune dwelling in a peculiar state of deep thought and self reflection; no longer accompanied by shame, remaining perpetually encumbered not only from the mind, but from the heart.

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Our Own Ways
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Comfortable