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The Flowers in the Vase

I am given a choice,
Call it Free Will perhaps,
But will I give my existence to Thanksgivings?
Or perhaps dwelling in the dwellings of naught?

And so there is a flower,
And maybe two or a bundle,
And all such beautiful flowers you take with you.

But we are all such flowers,
And such flowers need drink.
Or wither, yes, wither.
Until withered and gone.

But should the darkness surround,
Yes, Shine on.
For even though the Light so dim,
A Light surround all the same.

Within the Lights guidance,
Find your Vase.
The Holy Waters of Thanksgiving,
And Thrive.

For what is not, is not.
And for what Is, Is.

The open path is wide,
And forever dark.
Dark because it is full of things naught.
And it is here we dwell in delusion and die.

And the narrow,
Light and Luminescent,
Light because it is True.
But oh how Vibrant we Thrive.

And so,
I am given a choice,
Call it Free Will perhaps,
Should I give Thanks for the day given?
In everything it Is?

Or dwell in the naughts?
And wither away.
Away and away.

I am given this choice,
As placing a Flower in a Vase.
__________________
Imagine an eye unruled by man-made laws of perspective, an eye unprejudiced by compositional logic, an eye which does not respond to the name of everything but which must know each object encountered in life through an adventure of perception. How many colors are there in a field of grass to the crawling baby unaware of 'Green'?

-Stan Brakhage





Come Oer the Hill


Come Oer the Hill,
My Precious Baby Boy.
Come Oer Your Place Refuge,
And Come and Meet Me.

Ive Known You All My Waking Life,
And Wish to Know You Still.

So Fear Not of the World,
Or Your Father and Mother.

Forever You Are,
And Forever Youll be to Me.
The Child Ill Love with Grace and into Eternity.
And All Your falls and toils will be Softened by My Heart.
As Your Laughter and a Smile Should Soften Me so Verily.

For Beyond Such a Hill,
Lay Fields of Greener Grass.
For Beyond Such a Hill,
Such Things Will Come to pass.

The Flutter of Birds,
And Their Blissful Music too,
A Song that is Sung Just for You.

So Come Oer the Hill,
My Precious Baby Boy.
Come Oer Your Place Refuge,
And Come and Meet Me.

Ive Known You All My Waking Life,
And Wish to Know You Still.

So Fear Not of the World,
Or Your Father and Mother.

Forever You Are,
And Forever Youll be to Me.
The Child Ill Love with Grace and into Eternity.
And All Your falls and toils will be Softened by My Heart.
As Your Laughter and a Smile Should Soften Me so Verily.

For Beyond Such a Hill,
Lay the Love of Your Family.
For Beyond Such a Hill.
Such a Love Will Come to Pass.

The Lullaby of a Mother,
As Her Blissful Music too,
A Song by Her Forever Oer You.


My Ex-Girlfriend was having a baby boy but he was overdue by a little over a week. Knowing this, and wanting to do something special for their family during that time, I wrote a lullaby for them. I hope it blesses you too.

With Prayer:
Colt Moore