Vlog #3, Life is Open

While on a long walk tonight I wrote a poem, met a person and had a wonderful feeling that I would soon be owning my career as a writer. Here's my video blog dedicated to my friends and subscribers and everyone who cares about me. Thank you!

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Life is Open

Whether you live
where the woodpeckers peck
or the cuckoos coo
life is open to you.

The horses ride
the birds fly
life is open to you.

The pendulum
is a playful tire swing
A game of chance not so
You decide where to go.

Life is an open door
wherever you go
is where you are.

You can be the moon
the sun or a star.
You can be like the ocean.
You can be like a mountain.

You can go where you choose.
Life is open to you.

You can stay where you are
in that one spot
and time will pass you by
whether you like it or not.

You can dream
of far off places and far off faces
but when will you go to see them
and touch them?

Do you know you can?
Life is open.
The world is no island,
it is your land.

When the crow flies,
where does he go?
How many miles has he flown?
How many will he still go?

The monarch butterfly
knows many things.
He travels hundreds and thousands of miles
with those little wings.

He will not stop
until he dies
He learns the land
and he flies.

Now look higher
in the sky
so far above
the clouds they fly.

Always a new formation.
Not one the same cloud creation.
Constantly changing as the wind blows.
Constantly moving watching us below.

Above it all away from gravity's anchor.
Our trap is thinking
we need to keep our feet on the ground
because it's safer.

And why not jump
into the things we love
fearing not
what is to come?

Because what is fear
but another drug of sedation
keeps us down
and in formation.

I could be strong and stable
like a mountain,
unmoving and certain.

But I'd rather be weak like a feather
which escapes the confines
of a life not its own
and with the wind is blown where it's blown.

A mountain in all its might and wisdom
can still be destroyed.

But my weakness, my frailness
would be my strength
if had the courage
to go where the wind blows.

Because the wind is my heart.
The wind is me.

Aleisha Russell
June 24, 2007

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[MagicalSunrise1984]

this poem reminds me a lot of Bertolt Brecht

very complex and sometimes contradicts itself yet makes sense somehow

missed more of your poems vids (it's nicer when you read them out loud - and to watch you read, not only read words on a screen)

[aleishar]

@MagicalSunrise1984 Thank you so much for that sweet comment. I've got a few more poems on here and I think I've written hundreds that I've never read aloud-maybe I should. ;) hehe. xoxo

[J91777]

Very nice poem!  Thanks for sharing. :)

[aleishar]

Thank you very much! :) I'm glad you liked it.

[zorob5]

Wow this speaks so true.

[aleishar]

Thank you!! :)

[Selbsvertandlichkeit]

@KrisShred

maybe someone somehow you will transform into all which you attempt to express

but until then

the spirit, the souls you have damaged

will continue to haunt you

[Selbsvertandlichkeit]

@KrisShred

there is no soul on your side to connect to

no spirit or mind

and all these words you write, are but immitations of thought, emotions, ideas - essence which in reality you cannot genuinly experience

maybe it is a disease, maybe it is the past

maybe maybe maybe

certainly you can't fight the facts - all you can connect is assult and crimes against humanity

against the souls of other beings you encounter wether online or offline

[MagicalSunrise1984]

@aleishar

hopefully you will

[aleishar]

I'm very glad. :) All my best for your bright future.

Hugs,

Aleisha