And, If Somehow This Finds You; Mérci, Mon Amie!

Poetry

I’ll remember the joyous days, the moments of wonder, the smile I wore, within your presence and so much more.

Times forever,

yet scarce – and wasted,

mortalities reason.

Yet, if given a thousand years;

I’d still remember our time together.

The spills, the laughs, the moments that made me wish a single moment could last forever…

The moments that visions are built on,

the moments that myths yield, I shall forever shield, for they are moments that I refuse to relinquish.

For if I had a thousand more Septembers;

no less of those moments will I remember.

You shaped my world,

revived my hope,

which made my world.

So if those moments must pass, then let that be, let moments fade to memories – just capture them.

If time is forever, then so to is our bond.

And if somehow… if somehow this may find you;

mérci, mon amie, mérci.

Still Busy In Wonder,

Asya Valentine.

10:43am – The Human Tapestry

Insight, philosophy, thoughts

These last few years I have really started to understand how connected we all are. The worst idea to capture humanity is the idea that we are individuals, the notion that their can be individual joy that ignores the collective. It’s not possible to exist in a vacuum, nor is it desirable. It is the shallowness of ego, the delusion that you, I, or we alone matter.

I see now the reality of connectivity, that I exists solely in my relation to others. Whether that be in the immediate effect, with friends, loved ones and family, or in the more abstract sense of the child who knits my socks. It’s not to say that we cannot be different, but it’s to say that our joy is universal and our pain is ordinary. The hopes, dreams and desires that you hold are held in many hearts just like yours. Just like mine.

In ways, we are like one life. For nothing exists on its own, yet we choose to live in ignorance of one another, we choose to see our struggle as a recluse, instead of the rallying cry for justice in our shared experience. But choices are ours to make, so choices are ours to change.

Asya Valentine, Busy In Wonder

The Way You Made It – NHE Tales

Insight, philosophy, Poem, Poetry, thoughts, Uncategorized

A Thousand More

Poetry

The Forever Oath

Poetry

I continue in service of memory,

My debt settled in honour,

For the light that pierced

Through horror.

For in the abyss, the

Concrete desert lived a nomad.

A fitting place for

The truly deserted.

A modest life,

One riddled with burden,

A soul littered in pain,

Yet it was love you worshiped.

In that shadow I lurk,

In your shadow I learnt,

Now in your honour I work

And your memory I serve.

Asya Valentine, Busy In Wonder

BusyInWonder: 2021 Proverb #1

Poetry

The more I sit and ponder,

The less my thought wander,

The simpler my wonder,

As I’m humbled by age.

We all have hopes,

Delusions of grandeur,

To mask our simplicity

And act as an anchor;

To illusions drawn

In the prison of individuality,

Yet we all become aware,

Even if gradually.

That our pain is ordinary,

A promise from life

And no one soul is special,

Not even mine

A Stolen Song

Poetry

Here’s a tale of a few,

A trodden path,

A told tale

Of broken bonds,

A folk tale,

A stolen song.

You shaped his soul,

He took your breath,

You lost your time

And he lost his head.

One went that day

Yet both hearts wept.

Your spirits left.

His soul is dead.

If Dreams Were Forever

Poetry

Action in Inaction

Poetry

What came before it?

Who came?

Who destroyed it?

It wasn’t always this way

Not least, till they forged it,

You turn a blind eye,

It’s easy if it’s unseen,

But what about those

Who aren’t so lucky?

Those whose word has no power,

Whose voices have been stolen,

Those in persistent fear

And no illusions of voting.

Think now of your sibling,

Born in lands distant,

Who feels like you…

Who smiles,

Who weeps

And falls like you.

And then ask yourself,

‘All the pain and suffering

That I’m ignoring,

The dreams of many,

Those dreams distorted,

How much of others

Misery have I avoided?

To sit silent in comfort,

Who’s lives do I forfeit?’

𝐹𝑜𝓇 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒟𝑜𝓌𝓃𝓉𝓇𝑜𝒹𝒹𝑒𝓃 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝐵𝓇𝑜𝓀𝑒𝓃-𝒽𝑒𝒶𝓇𝓉𝑒𝒹

Poetry, Uncategorized

The path of a social deviant,

limitless qualms and little agreement,

It’s hard to be stable

if you’ve never stopped grieving.

I never were whole,

Not since you stopped breathing –

It’s sleepless nights

And lonely evenings,

It’s troubled thoughts,

It’s countless demons,

It’s constant rain

Forecast this season.

A Smiling Chance

Poetry

I can see some better

Days on the hill

As I lookout

This time,

There’s a little hope

In my dreams,

Thank you,

You changed my life.

Somehow you always

Know what to say

And what to think

Or write.

You’re my final

Chance at a smile,

You really

Saved my life.

𝐵𝓊𝓈𝓎 𝐼𝓃 𝒲𝑜𝓃𝒹𝑒𝓇

𝒱𝑜𝒾𝒸𝑒 𝒪𝒻 𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝒟𝒾𝓈𝑒𝓃𝒻𝓇𝒶𝓃𝒸𝒽𝒾𝓈𝑒𝒹

Action in Inaction