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The Light is Within

candelaJust for a day, keep your energy to yourself. Relax and feel the tensions we hold in our throat, around our hearts and in the small of the back. Is the response sincere, or meant to attract attention. Is the action only a habit or meant to to be kind. Does it feel like your always pushing a rock up against a wall of resentment from someone? Is that what causes the back to ache, giving support without being supported? Give up the need for validation and acceptance from others. Give in to the light within. Give up being seen as a whole being full of desires and contradictions, of wants and frustrations. Put the candle light within the self and let it fill the void. Depend on no one for one day, lean on the flame settled internally. Don’t give your light away. Keep the energy close. For once, let it all drop and figure out who you are in your own reflection and not the reflection of anyone else. Once in awhile, that what is most desired comes along. Cherish it only to yourself and share it with no one else. Be quiet that the winds of change have come and the most precious wish is there for you tomorrow. It doesn’t matter if no one understands. For once, know that the light is within.

Chickadee by Hanford Lennox-Gordon

chickadee0114Chickadee, chickadee, chickadee-dee!
That was the song that he sang to me–Sang
from his perch in the willow tree–
Chickadee, chickadee, chickadee-dee.
My little brown bird,
The song that I heard
Was a happier song than the minstrels sing–
A paean of joy and a carol of spring;
And my heart leaped throbbing and sang with thee
Chickadee, chickadee, chickadee-dee.

My birdie looked wise
With his little black eyes,
As he peeked and peered from his perch at me
With a throbbing throat and a flutter of glee,
As if he would say–
Sing trouble away,
Chickadee, chickadee, chickadee-dee.

Only one note
From his silver throat;
Only one word
From my wise little bird;
But a sweeter note or a wiser word
From the tongue of mortal I never have heard,
Than my little philosopher sang to me
From his bending perch in the willow tree–
Chickadee, chickadee, chickadee-dee.

Come foul or fair,
Come trouble and care–
No–never a sigh
Or a thought of despair!
For my little bird sings in my heart to me,
As he sang from his perch in the willow tree–
Chickadee, chickadee, chickadee dee:
Chickadee-dee, chickadee-dee;
Chickadee, chickadee, chickadee-dee.