Monthly Archives: May 2025

by

All You See in Me

by liam

I want to become 

what you see in me~

not the worn style 

of my own hesitation,

but the quickening grace

awakened by your gaze.

Your seeing transforms me

as if already whole~

as if cracks were not flaws,

but openings for light.

In your presence,

my innermost peace rises,

Absent of fear,

patient as rock.

You do not name me

by my inadequacies ~

you name me

by my transcendence. 

How is it

you recognize the path

before my own feet

have walked it?

I carry so many shadows,

yet you speak

as if I were made from the rays of dawn.

And so I stand

at the threshold

of your sight~

not to perform,

not to prove anything,

but to simply unfold.

Allow me to transmigrate

into that vision,

let me shed

the husks of my doubt,

and wear instead

the fashion,

your love remembers.

For perhaps……

what you recognize in me

is not a dream,

but this very soul

I have yet to welcome

home.

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by

the Soul

by Liam

Remember my beloved,

not as an act of memory 

but as an insight~

a soft turning toward

the beginning of your beginning still breathes.

For within the archives of your memory

there waits a threshold,

a gate not made by hands

Yet which opens by the ache of love.

You stood there once~

before your naming, before the remembrance 

and the insight that met you then

And has never ceased to seek you since.

Here,

you will not become more,

nor less~

but completely and wholly

what you have always been:

a flame within the great fire,

a note in the eternal sound,

a soul returning to source.

In this sanctuary,

at the very center of your heart,

there is a joy beyond song,

not even happiness, but belonging;

not escape, but homecoming.

To become everything

is to become nothing~

and in this disappearance 

you again become one.

Not as before,

but as forever.

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by

The Beginning

by Liam

To the music!

Dance, spin, and fly~

not to escape the world,

but to discover it again,

more whole.

It’s in the music

we first open our awareness.

We are shaped, at first,

by its breath.

And here,

in this still moment,

we remember:

we are not only flesh,

but more~

Specifically like music.

In the release from the body,

we are caught by something greater:

the ringing of the cosmos,

a choir of light

moving through the air.

The energy of the spheres,

older than time,

whispers us upward,

lifts us~

like wind whirling

across open fields,

like breath streaming

through a vibrating flute.

In the blur of movement,

I dissolve.

And in that vibration ,

I find what endures~

not an answer,

but a harmony:

a quiet belonging

to all this life.

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Her Light

Liam

She moves through her day

like a hush between

the catechism and confession.

Quiet, unassuming, introverted,

yet charged with a grace

that makes dust motes

seem like angels in the light

each dancing to be noticed.

Her presence, too, always gathers vibrancy,

as if she creates

sparks of lightning with her gaze.

People often ask where she comes from.

Strange—

as if the sacred has to carry

an identity document.

True:

she shines like a diamond

at a garage sale—brilliantly,

but gets mistaken for costume jewelry,

and sold to someone

who became nothing more than a paperweight.

Yet even then,

she did not dim.

For the heavenly never complains

about being misnamed

or being mistreated.

She simply waits,

waits to be recognized—

like eternity

wearing time as the disguise.

by

Words in Spring

by Liam

In springtime, my words too will blossom

not perfectly in a slick dialogue,

but in the humble whisper

of something just born.

Long dormant beneath the syllables of silence,

nestled in the earth of what I did not yet know how to express.

Yes, the spring comes quickly.

Light illuminates the soil of the spirit,

and what once was buried

germinates with understanding.

These words are not summoned, but consciously arrive

as petals burst open toward a seeking sun,

drinking from the mystery that makes all things grow.

This harvest is not to explain,

but to reveal.

Not to answer,

but to bless.

May words find you too,

the way wildflowers find cracks on the pilgrim’s path,

unexpected, tender, and beautiful.

Not forged in certainty, but in wonder,

lingering like dew along the edge of your morning sojourn.

by

The Altar of Now

by Liam

Let this day not pass

as a mere rhythm of tasks,

but as the quiet thrum

of my inner joy.

Let your words be shaped

by the hush of gratitude,

spoken not to fill the air

but to consecrate it.

This my moment is not

subservient to past or future.

It is the altar of now,

where life enacts with you too.

So greet each cloud

as if it carries a message.

Stretch your arms wide to the fields

they remember where you belong.

Fly with the starlings,

which have never forgotten to sing.

Kneel often,

for each breath we take

is a borrowed grace.

Be authentic to your becoming.

Reveal your love

not as a performance,

but as the soul’s spoken tongue,

singing sweet lullabies to your awakening.

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