Movement of Heart & Soul, Part 1

Cold winter winds blow and this old house whistles
Snow tumbles from atop the willow trees
The earth quivers as the freeze runs deep in the ground
My heart beats strong, pumping blood to fight the sickness in my bones
The words of others help me find my own
Listening to music is research for a poet
An escape from thoughts often too frequent and heavy
A release of tremendous inertia leaned upon levy
There is no equation for determining when creativity will be begin to flow
The only certainty is once it begins — let it grow
Not for framing, critique, compliment or presentation
Or because your creation has taken an extended vacation
But because it is you in the purest form
Expression is the cologne you always refused to wear
It is the guitar that you never quite learned to play
It is the song that repeats over and over in your head because you were meant to hear it in a different way
Internalize it, and let it plant in your soul
Without proper love and attention even our gifts will begin to fade
A mastery of the self is how a navigational map of our dreams is made
Focus on the finite and find what is that keeps you up nights
Fly freely from your fright and don’t always hold on so tight
Be loose, be calm, be patient, and be open
Love is fruit from the tree made with magic, to be discouraged is human, to flee from its gifts — tragic
Take a taste if you are so lucky to find it
Share it with those you wish to share your love and they won’t mind it
Let us create for those who come tomorrow
It is time to pay our debts in gifts of positive expression for all that we have borrowed
We cannot continue to take, all the while be claiming a desire to make, the world a better place; smile where there was frown; equilibrium where lands continue to suffer upside-down
We believe we are better, but have you any proof?
Are you a beacon for good news?
Do you give more than you take?
If given three wishes, how many wishes would you waste?
Wish I will and wish I wont, for each other, for myself, for the sound of jubilation ringing on the collision of church bells
Throw your wishes in a well, if despite your wishes man still fell — from grace, toward haste, to a less decent place: because decency should be the beginning, not the end: the place from which we depart, not hope to someday arrive
And while we all wish for a kiss from a creator, lover, luster or pretty miss: good people suffer; grow weaker; lose hope; wither and die
But we’re all doing the best we can, or at least that’s what we say
I just hope your are: for your sake; for our sake
With our words we shape the world we live in
With our actions we provide a vehicle for words to either be reinforced or contradicted
With our kindness we learn a little about ourselves
With our bliss, a little more love seeps through the cracks that we may not ever know we miss
With attention even the details begin to be mentioned
With retention kind words and images begin movement of the heart and soul
With internal movement comes the chance to set that movement free
With freedom comes open eyes to see all that is great and desperate
With each other we have a chance to be better
When we are better, everyone is better
That is what we call, a win-win
I look around the world and everything and everyone is screaming to me that we need it.

By Eric Hampton