Tag Archives: #motivation

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Would you Believe 

by Liam

There are days

when the road closes in around you,

when the air thickens

with the weight of unfinished questions,

With the fragrance of misunderstood answers. 

Yet the wound of the moment

is rarely the thing that breaks the heart.

It is the quiet whisperer

that tells me:

This is how it will always be.

That voice builds a house

inside your mind,

nails the windows shut,

dims the lamps of your tomorrow.

Our magnificent soul was not made

for sealed rooms, though.

Somewhere beyond that taught and learned horizon

An unseen tide is already turning;

the dusty field beneath these feet

is quietly gathering green.

Not one winter has ever convinced the earth

that spring was impossible.

And no difficulty

no matter how stern its face,

has ever possessed the final word.

So should the night lean heavily upon you,

Remind and remember this hidden kindness of time:

“What tries to destroy you

is not the path through the mountain,

but the belief

that the mountain will never move.”

Lift your gaze friend.

Every single stone

is learning slowly 

how to become sand on the beach.

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At the Turning of my Soul

by Liam

Some kneel only when the ground gives way,

when the night has chewed through every excuse

and the self stands stripped of its bright disguises.

There, in the ache where dignity dissolves,

a moment waits

not to accuse you,

but to breathe warmth into thy fractured name.

Others climb their days toward sunlit hills,

arms full of answered prayers,

And unfulfilled dreams.

Yet at the summit, dazzled by the view,

they mistake the panorama for the source

and bow to the feeling instead of the cognition.

What once felt given begins to feel earned,

and gratitude thins becoming ownership.

God does not favor the broken over the blessed.

It is not sin that opens the door,

nor success that seals it shut.

It is the posture of your heart

whether it bends,

whether it listens,

whether it remembers it is not the maker of its own light.

The sacred often enters sideways:

through the cracks of failure,

through the humbling of joy,

through the moments when certainty dissolves 

and wonder slips back in.

May you be saved from this arrogance of arrival

and the despair of collapse.

May you learn to recognize the sacred 

both in the bruise and in the blessing.

And may you never forget

that grace is not found at the bottom or the top,

but in the turning…

that quiet inward recognition 

where the soul finally stops performing

and allows itself to be recognized.

Remembered by the consciousness we carry.

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The Art of Love

by Liam

Have you considered loving Love itself?

Take up this blossom gently in your hands,

And lift it to your beating heart

Within this basket, Love is born;

Within we learn to love its flame.

Now warm, O warm my heart with tender light;

Cast wide the woven blanket of this dusk,

Fine-threaded with the colors of the sky.

Then let it descend to cradle restless eyes,

To still their startled, winged and wandering flight.

For here are you, and here am I,

Enraptured in the movement of one pulse

A fleeting instant, opening into time.

A moment stretches toward eternity,

While infinity shrinks to oblivion 

Yet Forever echoes the answer: 

…Love…Love…Love…

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The Art of Listening

By Liam

When the world grows loud with its own undoing,

I beg, listen gently.

Listen, not to answer,

not to achieve, but to manifest.

As an echo returns to me

It carries more than the sound:

a trace of singing,

a memory of whence it came,

the warmth of you who were.l

Nothing we hear is unique.

It has moved reflecting from stone,

Across time,

through the hearts of people 

before arriving in mine.

So I pause.

I make room

I anticipate.

In that small significant moment,

something shifts

not the world all at once,

but the way I stand within it.

 And for a moment,

the future feels possible,

because I am not alone

in the listening.

But part of the process 

Of understanding who we are.

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The Fire: A Lyric

By Liam 

Beneath this fragile garment of skin

— our hidden meaning waits —

quiet,

inside the spirit.

We move through our days

gathering small pieces of light,

yet something deeper

keeps calling us

inward.

Now…

is the time

to tend to the secret fire.

Let my heart become a furnace

where sorrow transforms

and joy made pure.

Nothing given to this flame

is ever lost.

It transforms to insight,

for the journey to radiance,

no darkness can hold.

And when your days grow still,

like evening over spring water.

What remains is alchemical gold.

Clarified into its truest name:

love.

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Ask

Ask for, You shall Become !

by Liam

Ask the morning for bread,

life will place it warm in your hands,

A grateful gift of wheat and heat,

Is enough to feed you

through its conversation with the day.

Ask the night for your soul,

it will answer more quietly,

opening hidden places each unique,

each longingly learning its name.

This awakening becomes my form of prayer.

Ask, and life kneels forgivingly.

Ask life and the veil dissipates.

But let there be a deeper listening

than the hunger of the mouth

or the thirst of the heart,

a listening where the seeker

recognizes their own footsteps

echoing ahead of them into the future.

What you seek is not separate from yourself .

What you seek emerges  within you.

Understand this insight,

it’s not in words

but in a sudden sensitivity 

toward your own awareness,

as though the light you’ve followed

has been emergent within your being all along.

The bread becomes your blessing,

The soul becomes your shelter,

and the quest folds inward like a benediction,

Until we say,

I am the question.

I am also the answer.

I am the gate to be opened.

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A Blessing to my Younger Me

by Liam 

Come here, my small one,

slip out from the hush of hidden rooms,

where shadows tried to teach you

you were too much, or not enough.

I have walked the years to find you,

following the bright, trembling line

of your laughter,

and the salt-trail of your tears.

I know the weight you carried,

how silence felt safer

than asking for what you needed,

how the world loomed enormous

and your heart beat

like a frightened bird

against the walls of your ribs.

Let me kneel beside you now,

and speak into that hush:

You were never wrong for feeling deeply.

Your tenderness is not a wound.

It is the place where light enters.

I have become the arms

you wished would hold you.

I am the voice that says:

It is safe, beloved.

Come into the day.

I bring you news from the far shore:

There is beauty waiting

where you once feared only dark.

The world can be gentle.

There are those who see you whole,

who hold your gaze with kindness.

In me, you have survived

and more than survived:

You have learned to bless your own scars

and call your spirit home.

So let us begin again,

hand in hand,

speaking softly

to every hidden hurt,

letting the hush be filled

with new music—

the music of a life

no longer ashamed

to shine.

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Cuvée 

by Liam

This cuvée of the mind is a sparkling wine

We sip with our eyes

We taste with our souls, 

We feel with our perception

Till all is spinning into one, 

Inebriation! 

Give I these grapes to God in gratitude

New nourishment for my soul

We’ve discovered the hidden within the divine.

A mystery unto myself ,

I am that which I consume.

I am this which I drink.

Am I the becoming,

Oh, what do I think?

Come friends, let’s toast to this feast of universality,

To the recognition of immortality.

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The Art of Being Human

by Liam

Allow yourself to be a born human;

to arrive as a growing symphony of life,

a fierce flame carried forth from the dusk.

Allow yourself to become;

the living song you sing whose truths gather

in your bones,

until your very presence

is an ode to belonging.

Allow yourself to be alive:

to be drawn into the gravity of your own becoming,

to listen to the quiet music

hidden beneath your breath.

Allow yourself to trust;

that every step is held by an ancient knowledge  

that remembers you.

An individual discovering the meaning of the mystery.

A soul slowly learning

the art of its own delight.

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Solar Heart

by Liam

I’ve seen the quiet tremors of your gaze,

the way your pulse outshines the afternoon,

as if your breath were woven out of days,

that learned their language from a rising moon.

You speak, and dormant gardens break their sleep;

you move, and hidden continents shift their flow.

The world shuffles in, to listen to the deep

unfolding of a light it longs to know.

What secret spark first stirred this inner fire?

What cosmic gravity drew a flame to heart?

Your presence bends reality to desire,

A flame claims, love begins to start.

In your heart the sun is an exploding flame,

and the sky so blue 

will never be the same.