Beauty and the truth.

Embrace your emotions, they are all beautiful. You are beautiful.

What is your passion, what brings you to life, what brings you to your knees?

What are you doing this hour, this day, this week… to bring yourself to life, to feel alive? How many of us are ALIVE?

You are EXTRAORDINARY. EXTRAORDINARY. EXTRAORDINARY

Appreciate.

Be astonished. See the beauty in yourself.

Love and give love. Be loved. Be love.

 

A fish and a bird may fall in love, but for the murky edge of the water, they shall have no where to live.

The fish’s tale floats like an oriental fan peacefully in the shallow blue of the water. Her golden scales dance with the sunlight as she shines her being to the heavens like a rare and precious diamond.

The bird in the tree is as lovely as a flower. His chest pimped and puffed like a proud and noble soldier. He spreads his wings like an angel as he dives through the branches of the wise green tree.

As the regal and glorious bird glides through the silver skies reveling in his freedom, the fish and her jewel like elegance float effortlessly down the channels of the sun kissed lake gliding and darting from place-to-place in a continuous underwater waltz.

The bird, thirsty from a days flight glides to the sandy banks of the lake and sips at the cool clear water. His eyes fix on a glistening jewel that is rising from the depths, as the vision becomes clearer the bird is stunned to realize that he is caught by the magnificent image of a fish and in an instant he is pained by a love so deep and desperate that he is unable to continue to drink. The fish too, looks up to see the proud and distinguished vision of the bird and falls helplessly in love as if a spell has been cast over her heart.

Unable to embrace, the fish and the bird dedicate themselves to spending the days lovingly positioned at the waters edge. One wet and one dry, they honor each others splendid beauty through time. The fish, who wishes desperately for flight, becomes so saddened by her water bound existence that her scales become dull and no longer radiate to the heavens. And the bird, freer than all other creatures is now captive to commitment and chained to his lover. Both are locked in a prison of time, hostage to the first sun-kissed moments of meeting and burdened by the knowledge that a fish and a bird may fall in love, but for the murky edge of the water, they shall have no where to live.

 As the months pass and the warm glow of the sun is replaced by the cool beginnings of a cold and sorrowful winter, the bird and the fish begin to despair. Each of their hearts silently realising that while they love each other desperately, theirs is but a hopeless dream.

Love and Hunger

They line the battered footpath of the blue-gated entrance to the St Vincent De Paul, like leaves scattered after an early morning storm. There is the usual bunch of down-and-outs mostly men, some young, some old. All share the familiar look of hunger and shame behind tired sunken eyes. Their faces marred with the dirty glean of worry and regret. All heavy with the understanding that life can be unfair.

The women sit quietly waiting patiently with their men. Some are bruised and scarred. Years of neglect etched into their auras, eyes diverted from the passing morning traffic.

A young man, no older than twenty four walks unsuspectingly towards the group. His mousy brown hair peeks out from beneath his black cap. He walks purposely forward, long lean legs stretching hungrily towards the familiar rusty blue gates – here he knows he can nourish his girls with at least one meal today. He is tired. The young girls cling to his dirty shorts. I cannot tell their age. Both share the same delicious shade of freddo frog skin, and although the man with them is lighter, it is obvious he is their father. The youngest sits in a worn and buckled pram and is comforted by a small sweet looking bear, the older girl walks along side, her once pink sandals struggle to keep pace.  Faces so serious yet something about their arrival lightens the heavy mood of those they pass.

Squeals of delight break the still morning air as the girls break away from their father’s tight grasp to skip along side a convoy of Green Ants. Slight smiles peak at the lips of those who quietly watch.

The man and his girls never sit with the others, instead they walk past, and up and down the cracked concrete entrance until the blue gates open.  Then quietly, and quickly they slip in, lost to the eyes of the world. Happiness as the warmth of the room engulfs them.