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Early Sunrise 🌅

The sea blue light of the early hour

Awakens the nests within the trees

A slight breeze and a heavy yawn

The transition from dusk to dawn

Hold the hour at which you wake

Appreciate the day that lies before you

Tomorrow isn’t here yet

We only have today

Today to make change

Today to help one another

Today to start fresh

The sun and the moon rise through storm and hail

At the same speed and the same rotation

You’ll never see our biggest shared assets fall

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How do we increase our awareness of our selves?

How do we build upon our self-esteem?

  • Write a list of what you value about yourself and how you can make a difference to other people’s lives
  • Write down a list of characteristics you want and believe you already have them
  • Write down a list of positive achievements and attributes you’ve created in your life and how you created them as this will keep the mind focused on creating new ideologies
  • What are your hobbies? Do you confirm to the individual beside you or do you trust your own intuition?
  • If you could have any career you want what career would you choose?
  • Define yourself, take the pen, make a work of art 🖼
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The broken moon 🌒

What is the meaning of an eclipse?

Is it a partial disturbance of evil covering the light of the stone’s soul?

What is the meaning of night?

Is it to rest our bodies or minds?

What is the meaning of the holes on the moons surface?

Does it emphasise the holes we carry within our hearts?

What is the meaning of a broken soul?

An awareness that there’s a missing piece – a missing part of you that you can’t comprehend. . .

But it’s always the same moon. The same moon we all look up to.

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Be worthy

You’re Worthy 💙

Grow

Let Others

Define Your worth

Allow others to

Destroy you, but don’t

Let them

Be that broken piece

Forgive those who played with your mind

Begin Again

You are suffering, I see

But . . .

You failed, I understand

Now read it bottom up !! 💕📝

 

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A poem that was published when I was a child 📝

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The Tables Turned

You’re on a different path now, the world has shown you the way forward, what you need to do . . .

. . . You’re inspired, fulfilling, compassionate, eccentric, intrinsic, introverted but extroverted, both a reader and a writer

. . . They didn’t expect you to come so far but you did and for that young soul be grateful for that’s a blessing – you made it and you can teach others how to too

Whos they?

They’re the one’s whos souls are still coal black and their eyes so misty – their delusion was that you were the problem 💞

 

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Clouds ⛅️ Phrases & All

Clouds are just floating thoughts, soft marshmallows in a sky that reflects the colour of the sea.

Clouds move in synchronisation with the rotation of time; communicating with the sun and the moon.

Clouds are the weather system of our emotions; a visual perception from the inner eye’s gaze.

Clouds can turn dark and clash causing thunder, an argumentative occurrence in mid air.

But what are clouds?

Clouds are just that. Clouds. Their shades aren’t on a rainbow spectrum, just water frozen in time.

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The Harp 📝

132CD58D-BFD4-4A34-958B-F282478ED639.jpeg“The angel’s most beautiful voice is the harp. The brass stricken harp. The passionate soul that vibrates through the strings of a golden instrument is the symphony of the empath”. 

Don’t doubt, believe – write to your heart’s content

Natalie Small

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What side of the brain do you use?

 

What side of the brain do you use?

The interaction between both is a game of volleyball, a confusing element within its features, a comprehensive account of our genetics and memory processes…
Skills are what motivates us. Experience is what shapes us. Atoms. That’s all we are atoms.

 

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Creative Writing Group: Astronomy 🔭

Today I joined a creative writing group at Mind which I throughly enjoyed. I chose the topic astronomy and wrote a short piece:

The alignment of the planets spiralled in the eyes of its creator. The infinite depths of darkness enlightened by only one sun, the sun we see from earth. Connected as we are, we see the universe as a hologram, a projection of visual observances.

The many rays of light, just black and white, but our irises see colour. Are our eyes the centre of the universe? Is our energy the soul, the values, the connector of the universe? Like a flower needs the seasons the universe needs an emotion. It rotates. Perhaps the planets are not round as we percept it to be. Perhaps the moon is the white spectrum of light that we look up to when the stars twinkle in the invisible atmosphere.

Mars is a ball of rock to remind us of the soil we need to remove from our souls. We are the creators of the universe, we don’t see things in the same way, we visualise, we create, we make except we are one.

One at how we see the planets, one at how we feel the same emotions, one with how we perceive the shadows, the shadows of our reflection, from the light within our souls. Fire and water are opposites but do they have a chemical bond? Air and Earth are opposites of each other too. A productive transformation, the gift of sight, to see such a spectacular occurrence.

Pluto is the furthest within our solar system – but it’s alone – it’s purpose unknown – it’s grey but noticeable – just like a person who has been suppressed by envy, suppressed by jealousy, suppressed by the world’s greed.

If only we knew how captivating the universe is but we can’t survive without gravity. We can’t survive without people – to love one another is to be accepting. Accepting of the facts, accepting ourselves for who we are. Our memories are atoms, our body is energy, our mind is the creator of the universe.

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A million pieces of glass📝

The heart weeped. It’s shattered. It’s bruised. It hoped.It looked. It found. It lost. It moped.

The tears fell. It’s endless. It’s dried. It’s condensated. It’s hell.

The body ached. It’s weak. It’s hurt. It’s painful. It’s bleak.

The memories split. It’s disorientated. It’s confused. It’s recalling. It’s used.

Your confidence drowned. It’s dissociative. It’s lonely. It’s invisible. It’s sound.

You found love. It’s scared. It’s unpromising. It’s repetitive. It’s shared.

You lost trust. It’s replaced. It’s moving. It’s glass. It’s lust.

 

 

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My Mother’s Artwork as a child 📝

My mother is an amazing artist and I’d like to share some of her work on my blog to inspire other artists. A goal of mine is to write about each piece of art my mum has created over the years, write about it in detail, with imagery, with personification, with creativity, to explain to my mother how beautiful her art is and the talents she has yet to blossom. My mother is 42, I’m 26. My mum is on her first steps of becoming the talented version of herself and I want to share her art with the world 🌍