An infinite source

Before and After

The only place but now

in origin

Because of this

reintegrate,

in part or in whole

blessings, knowing nothing

of the end nor beginning,

to find it all in where

we are

and will return

home is only visible

to those that find

it in all places

in all actions

non action

love

Winter Winds

Winter winds tho they chill my skin

can not touch my heart ever burning

A palace of heartfelt has found its way in

around all the people and the places i have been

the lessons taught grow clearer through every

broken step every glance in a truer direction

My capability to love grows ever greater as

"more" material things fall away, outside of this

i am found in warm moments, mind wandering

to who and what i want to be for all that i can.

Like the ice will freeze this winter over sidewalks

chill will encase this hope of something greater internal

external, to fall away in brighter days when i am truly

willing and capable of change.

Of change, of change, value of what has been that must go

Of the undeniable, the unchanging and ever present in heart

tho the hands and paths may be lonely ones, very few things

that do not include solitude, are worth pro-suing

These paths are not of attainment, but of something great

unattainable, untouchable, Of something steadfast and

vacant at the same, prevailing and wholesome, I am not

one to testify this for my path has become unclear, tho i know

where i must place my heart in all of this.

in the changing skies, in the uncertain storms to come

in the days of spring ahead, in seed, in earth, in something

far from my grasp, of reality.

Following fogs of fall

Temporarily out of place

in a place that i have

by myself been put

following fogs of fall

stark light on tree tops

evergreens contrasting

fading leaves, everlasting

cool air amoungst the rustling

of restless seed, patient seed

new earth pouring open

quenched of its summer

filled in the resilance

of nutrients returned

do not ask me of the rain

or of the breeze for i know

not its comming direction

i enjoy each day degrees

cooler then the few before

to fear something so cold in the wind

to fear somethign that is inevitabley the way

the way of all that has bloomed, here

in this time is biased and still

while confronted by the freeze

Little Bit

I Love Life

it has nothing to do with us

or things would be different

i think: but i could never know,

so i move forward" knowing that all remains the same

between us, without us manifesting our selves

as one beyond the one that there is.

the one that has us always , eternally forbade

wicked in its interpretations by others who believe

there is a choice within me strong enough to break

what has not only become, but what has been, will be

it is not a matter to be confused by or an interpretation

that is open for interpreting, there is a truth beyond us all

and that is where the vessel of his kiss and breath resides.

i worry about days where he forgets of me , and know that in all good that

i do i find the light derived of the same of him, therefore it must be true for

him to walk that eternal path of love, to know inly of me ; like i know of him.

the richest : fare grasp

to take something that is simple to the core

of the core so simple : and complicate it

to know of a truth that can not be dissolved

to confess it and justify it beyond the means

of necessity.

i have learned to be silent

to have fewer thoughts then are

convenient for a conversation

for a relationship

contentedness : neutrality

confused with apathy

with disinterest

even dishonesty

i feel the sky as it pulls in any direction

further away from me ; ever changing

the sand slip under my feet : the shore

rocky ; water algae ridden beyond my

control ; beyond my attempt to categorize

any of this it is felt to the fullest as adequate.

driving down endless highway ;

to see the excavation of land away from

tree roots with their lives taken away.

their breathes stopped

our breaths weakened.

the good

Like the good preacher;

the good revolutionary

the good sage, or prophet,

I speak to my people

of a love within one another

that we may find if we attempt

to open our eyes, if we clear our

vision, of what has been placed

so unfitting before us, and make our

path in truth.

in love. walking with only that in mind

the perils of being human are far to

complex for our new races to comprehend

finding origin : finding roots

in what has been and remains unchanging

is left to rest, while other priorities consume

us, our beings and our spiritual ways

in totality.

there is not a pattern in this beyond the

constant saturation of media and mayhem

un balanced with the glimpse of something

heartfelt and true.

Attempting to perceive self

seems indignant to do so

knowing that i have a place

in this life ; that one may call my own

i have not ever necessarily followed

or guided anyone anywhere ; and it is

not really time to start i suppose,

but in days i would define;

as less adequate then others

i have only myself to blame

i am reminded of consequences,

of actions; of things that so quickly passed

i did not know there would be a time to

think of them again ; but now

with only bitter, time on my hands

i wash away again what has been only

for the return to be less patient in the

squandering of.

i have not known easier days,

for i know where i am true and

where i am not ; but in the same

moment; i have never once struggled

this much ; though i have survived

far worse days then these.

survival is always in hindsight

now ah' daze, with all the convenience

of far beyond necessity, it is hard to know

of struggle, when born of a breed, raised

apathetic, and more so bothersome then

needed or of any purpose, but ones own.

love

love is faith
unquestionably

the comprehension of
is near unconsciousness

heightened
spiritually
physically

No longer

No longer do i question who i am.

i am found securely : wholesomely

within this : without this

no longing for individuality

a oneness within the flaws

i do not see a streaming consciousness

i feel the unnamed from a definitive core

an unarmed notion of prospect

the fruit that bares the seed

the tree from which only love grows

i find all that is necessary to survive

in long strands of commonality

sunnywalk

ERI.BR8K:lin

Finding light through thick clouds and leafless trees. . Snow melting - warm breeezes @peace and inly et joi lna
Ahimsa

epic old face book updates

Jade Hope-Able Erdalssøn

You are not only human : you are god : and the brother of all his sons and daughters. all that is / is aware.

Know for thy self . . That all around is changing and in the light that you lend the other you find yourself. Ahimsa

If i want it even for a moment and long to possess it : it will fade away : more fit for the next and full of a my love : i forget im no one when he looks at me

If you should ever track me down : i will surrender there : i am the distance you put between the moments we will be. .

See i am no king i where no crown . But but desprit time they seem over now . But still i weaken somehow C&c Ahimsa

Contentment through lack of options has never found its self fitting in my perception of peace . . Finding clarity slowly. Love boundlessly.

I want to hear a word i never have. .Oh and if there were a lord it'd be silence. when Come the days n' nights when i know thy self as one w all of the creation

Needs to cleanse further and is attempting not to run in every direction. Admiration is my only ambition. . Correct your own spelling i dont intend on it myself

BOUNDLESS LOVE IS WITHOUT EXPECTATIONS : ITIS WHOLE WITHIN ITS SELF : ITIS GIVEN ENDLESSLY WITHOUT POSITION OR JUSTIFICATION : IT IS AND WILL BE : IT HAS BEEN.

Bagels and avatar . . . painting and coffee . . . Life life life to live.
Ahimsa

Even in here

Taking myself to a place i very rarely enjoy
but i can disguise the air with head phones,
and pretend the conversations being had are wholesome

i build my own atmosphere in here, from the spoon so
slightly balance on top of the soy creamer, i push the ugly
frangrant flower to the other end of the table and suggest
to myself that this table is made of mahogany not poly-something or other

Coffee dwindling, and since the americano with extra exxxpresso is more
expensive then the normal cup-oh-joe i wont be having another,
but at least my mouth will not taste disgusting when i leave,

shamrocks hanging, from doorways, Budweiser scrawled across them,
mmm... for what, saint Patrick, and the snakes or was that Valentine,
Do not ask me i am American, and all i know is Oprah the Simpson,
and Bill fucking Clinton, and do not think for a second that i capitalized one
of those names on my own, solidly spell check all the way.

Okay so maybe you sense that i am a tad bit bitter at the moment,
and you are absolutely correct, i have been in this town for bordering on
twenty four years, and yes i have left from time to time, on little adventures,
and that is just what they were, "adventures"have to end some time.

It is in the light

when i find motion, to shadowed by the long winter dusks
to notice any other time, finding time to appreciate what is here
and now, and dreaming of the moments to be no expectantly,
taking place in head and heart, being as virtuous as i know how to be

Walking empty streets i call my own, in hick town, blasting techno, hip hop
and folk, from lunch to dinner, just to keep the silence, and the mufflers,
clouded out, for a few, moments when i am task ridden.

The air a little warmer, and the sky a little brighter, sidewalks clearing of ice
just to prep for a few last winter hell storms, when the snow hits you in
the face you dont want to see any more, just sit by the fire with tea, and warmth.

A fleeting feeling, the breeze, uhh the grass, to know that the grass, and the flowers,
and the warm sun will touch this skin, again, whether i am patient or not, spring, and summer
are coming, sooner for me then most folks, perhaps because i commonly conceive
the details still rooted in ice, and the mud paths, as a few months pasts dust.

Oh northwestern pa, how far from my heart you'll always be, but the first
and the last home you could ever need.

hHhahaha !

watching

the daylight turn to dusk
again, and again,
through a thick
winter sky.

gray and white
white and gray
for a glimpse of
the full moon in
THIS SKY

finding words to say
i have experienced this
day to daze, impossible
six months of freezing

to an end, spring
new beginning, again
and then once more
of course, i will not

find any more wholesome place
then now living in a moment
comprehending, just a little bit
of peace, a little bit.

cold hands, and fire wood,
coffee cups, scattered on the woodstove
baybees playing, around and on
all that i am, now, and here,

lost in so many moments found
when all meaning becomes
quite clear.

I can not hear a thing in this place

Sitting at perkins in awe of ( i know) where i do live.
flannel and camo, permeate, each and every single vinyl booth
some for fad some for function, i am guilty also, not sure where i fit in to this.
but i surly do, somewhere.

somewhere, somewhere, same here.
i have an insensate need to distance myself
become closer, sitting in lonely booths
intentionally.

i fill each moment with something,
seeking something, silent, i fill my self
through heavy beats, strums, lyrics
that may never mean the same thing
in another moment, outside of this one.