Autumn Harvest*

She lay there, still, in the Autumn Sun,

Arms stretched wide and wings aside.

She watched her friends glide and go,

The time had nearly come to make it snow.

They basked in the last of their warmth they had grown

From sunflowers to Lilly pads,

Each one across the sparkling pond, aglow.

They danced from tree to flower to seeds,

to see which stock would survive all the breeze

They glimpsed and frowned, a quick skim through the inner guide,

To see which winter garden would most be alive…

In wonder and awe, the glory that would never bore

and warm the hearts of all the folk that passed by, 

little critters, trotters and frolicking bears, 

Pixies and whiskers and all things fair.

The clouds now looming she got up to help,

for her grand finale was never short of something felt.

With a flutter of her wings, gently lifting off the ground, 

She raised her arm and held her head high.

She twirled a little here, swirled her arm a little there,

And slowly the purest white glowing orbs drifted gently across the land, from out of nowhere.

The breeze carried them far and wide, not a sound to be heard, but on, what a sight!

As the day went on and and the stars came out to play,

she found her purest flower in which to lay.

Ocean Lullaby*

Maya lay awake on her bed, for sleep would take it’s time tonight. She knew that much because she had thrown the rocks in it’s path, or rather, she had allowed others to. Maya was 15, but 23, but 15. Oh, how the evening’s events had struck something deep down inside of her, something that sent shivers wildly running amok down her spine, up her spine, all through her spine, every which path they could reach. She had long forgotten what had driven her to seclusion… To art… Perhaps even to herself.

The jokes were endless and the supper table that night. “Maya this…Maya that…” She had never understood where it had come from, or why any of it was funny, but it had definitely left a dent, which seemed to have faded when her sister left the country, but here it was again at her arrival. Th mockery came from her brother, her father, the idea of “Daddies little girl” did not exist for a moment in time, and 6 years out of school seemed to have vanished. Just like that. As if Maya was a 1 year old child learning how to walk, fumbling about, falling all over the place, breaking all the precious meaningless things.

It was nothing like that. Maya had done nothing, said nothing, she had never understood the joke or why it only worked at a table of 5. But some mysteries were never there to be figured out to begin with. They were merely tests of strength and endurance. And endure she did until she knew she was completely alone. No one needed to see her utter disgust at child’s play. No one needed to see her eyes mimic that of a falling child.

Maya let the tides rush in and down, splish, splash, splosh…
All she could think about was all the people she would rather be around, warm faces and warm eyes, warm hugs and warmest words, but as fairies are trapped in books and pages, so friends are trapped in unreachable realms, and as the sound of the ocean puts the world to rest, so the gentle music lulls the weary child*

Fairytale Dreaming~*

Her dreams danced like fairies around the warm glow of the moon,
Her soul traced the stars, each drop of rain, a speck of new.
Swirling, twirling, swiveling til they reached the ground,
She thought about that life…
Which in a thousand books was trapped and bound.
Her heart only saw the stars of each night,
As the world around her fought to end her plight.
They had to keep her in their intended place, for only then was their little societal world safe.
All she wanted was bird and song, bark and purr
But they said no, nature was only to be a blur.
She wanted the sparkles of magic from hand and wand,
Tiny flitting creatures- the ultimate nature-human bond.
Silver majestic wings of stories told,
Floral dresses, most authentic, the only of their kind, more valuable than gold,
Sewn carefully together with silky threads only too fine.
Dancing trees sending whispers into the night
A gentle rain adding decor to this sight.
The howling winds sending rustles here, there and everywhere,
The glowing moon only purest light to share, if only she could this glowing golden gown wear*

Oh Look! Buttons!

I’m on holiday from creative writing, so here’s a random list of things people say that tend to get under my skin*

“Middle class white kids…”
We’re not all the same, don’t shove me into your closed minded box.

“Is that your real name?(Pascale) Hey isn’t there a scientist/artist with that name”
Why yes, and I’m pretty sure millions of people out there have your name too. Like omg. Wow.

“Why are you so quiet?”
Empty vessels make the most noise. Still waters run deep.

Pretty much any racist remark against any race. Makes me incredibly angry.

“Get over it/just let it go”
My world, my time, my devices.

“You’re talking nonsense”
Wow, that response was rather quick, did you even take in what was said or is your own opinion so superior that no further consideration is required.

“I hate *insert name*”
I’ve never met a person worth hating. There’s so much more to every person you meet than what meets the eye. Every asshole has his good side too.

“No one understands me”
They’re trying. You’re the best representative of who you are.

“You don’t do anything”
I do plenty. Just not in the same vicinity as you. Art must happen in solitude for the artist must explore her own mind thoroughly and in order for such to happen, one must be without distraction.
Also, I’m still trying to figure this life thing out. My time, my devices.

“You’re so emo”
There’s a difference between being deep and being emotional…

“You’re so cute”
When you’re 23 and you’re trying to find your way through life, cute is not quite what you want to hear, especially when attempting to assert yourself as an adult.

“Why don’t you speak French”(Family)
Your English is better than my French. Languages… Not my thing.

Well, that’s as much as the aggravated brain can think of*
Keep writing:)
You guys are lovely*

A Day In The Life of Goodbye Part 2

This is the music video mentioned in my last post ( http://voicemysoul.wordpress.com/2013/11/27/a-day-in-the-life-of-goodbye/ ) and thought you guys might like more of a visual picture:) This is our cover of ‘Say Something’ originally by A Great Big World and Christina Aguilera. We didn’t have the best equipment, but the sentiment was there wholeheartedly*

And with that Maya packed the last of her things, said the last of her goodbyes and left the little town which has surprisingly formed such a great big part of her life. She would forever be grateful for the kindred spirits her soul seemed to have already known from former lives.

And with that the real adventure began*

A Day In The Life of Goodbye…

Maya lay on her bed staring at the ceiling. She couldn’t bare to think another thought, for she had spent her day slipping in and out of pain and tears. She just wanted to be numb. She had searched every grey car window for his face a few minutes after he had left, but she had to face it, her musical soul mate had really left town this morning. There had been waterfalls from both ends, for they had spent the majority of their free time together during the past four years. He had cried on her shoulder every time some asshole had let him down and he joked endlessly about her woes, which had always eased her own pain.

Is this what Meister Eckhart had meant when he said that detachment from earthly things was the highest virtue? Philosophers were always senseless though, in Maya’s eyes anyway. They all frustrated her right down to the core. Pain was so  important in life and beautiful and so worth it.

Maya had started packing up her own room after he had left. This was it. University was over. Packing was her best distraction because she enjoyed the art of organization. Every thing had it’s place and she found joy in placing things where they fitted and belonged. Art pretty much worked the same way, words were always placed where they most made sense or evoked the right emotions, shapes and images were perfectly placed where they looked right, even if they didn’t look right where they were, they served some sort of purpose. He fitted her picture. Life seemed to build itself much in the same way organization worked. If a person fitted somewhere, a friendship was built and developed, each serving some sort of purpose. When Maya would sit in the living room and play guitar, he would pull out his guitar and provide the perfect harmony to every song sung. Life had felt almost surreal during those moments.

Maya had no appetite for food, so she simply kept herself distracted instead. It almost surprised her how quickly she had managed to pack everything. Too quickly, for the distraction left too soon. Before she found her next distraction she had let out a few more waterfalls of tears. She even allowed herself loud sobs now that she was alone, she had hope those would get the feeling out of her system, but while it felt good, there was still so much inside that needed to come out. She wasn’t quite ready to say goodbye to the life she had breathed for the past 2 years. Living together had been such a pleasure. Before when she had lived in the residence the university had provided, life had been lonely and isolated. He brought such colour to what had been cold and dull and she had soaked in every last bit of it, making sure not to regret any moment lost. What an absolute pleasure to be able to be ones most absolute true, silly, crazy self in the company of one who simply goes along with it and joins in. Those friends were becoming few and disappearing with age, as life had a way of changing hearts, attitudes and circumstances. They were all out in the real world now, battling it out with gale force winds, hail storms and monsoons in the heart of dark forests, feeling their way along blindly. What better way to grow and strengthen. Maya was scared of that world, but she knew she’s be OK with it in a few weeks time. She had no other choice and she was an optimist, she knew all to well that life actually had beautiful things to offer in time.

Maya was thinking about the day before, how they had made their very own music video, and what fun, with giggles bouncing off every wall and making light of all these goodbye vibes. Maya was sitting with two of her friends who were still around, drinking coffee as the rain poured outside. Mother Nature always did have this strange way of reading her heart and allowing the atmosphere to express what was. Maya still had three days to sit and drive herself crazy with all these goodbyes messing with her internal system, before her parents came to fetch her. Why did they have to wait so long, Maya just wanted to leave already. At least home had the comforts of animals and her teddy bear and swimming pool. Her mother would offer her a glass of wine from day 1, that much she knew. There was something slightly whimsical about the thought of living at home full time again. This time her father was retired so he’d be there full time too. And how strange that would be.

Life was about to be silly. She knew that much. And what a ray of sunshine silliness always proved to be, for she knew she would find her way eventually. Rainbows. Rainbows are exactly what always followed the rain and she couldn’t wait for those rainbows, for what a beauty they would be~*

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Some Thoughts on Yoga and Yoga Asana

Serenity:

Awesome words for thoughtful living:)

Originally posted on Riding effortlessly on a large green turtle:


Yoga teaches us to cure what need not be endured and endure what cannot be cured. (B.K.S. Iyengar)

Teach what is in you, not as it applies to you, to yourself, but as it applies to the other. (T. Krishnamacharya)

Before you’ve practised, the theory is useless. After you’ve practised, the theory is obvious.

Crave for a thing, you will get it. Renounce the craving and the object will follow you by itself. (Swami Sivananda)

The difference between yoga and bodybuilders is that bodybuilders have a body of a bull and the heart of gazelle – and yogis the heart of a bull and the body of a gazelle. (Sri Kartakeya)

Happiness is not having what you want, but wanting what you have. (Swami Chidananda)

When you are inspired by some great purpose, some extraordinary project, all your thoughts break their bonds:
Your mind transcends limitations, your consciousness expands in…

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