Toujours en fuite? / Still on the run

Vous souvenez-vous, quand vous étiez jeune?
Les battements de coeur dans un infini.
Une seconde sur les lèvres de Dieu.
Pouvez-vous sentir la forêt?
Es-tu fuyant?
Disparu dans les arbres.
Quelle partie d’entre vous ne dort jamais?
Pour toujours rêver dans un monde où règnent les cauchemars.
Portez votre couronne.
Asseyez-vous, et lavez-vous dans les larmes cosmiques.

/

Do you remember, when you were young?
The heartbeats in an infinity.
One second on the lips of God.
Can you smell the forest?
Are you fleeing?
Disappeared in the trees.
What part of you never sleeps?
To always dream in a world where nightmares reign.
Wear your crown.
Sit down and wash yourself in cosmic tears.

05/10/202218/05/2022 by Mark Ryan Categories: crown, escape, woodsTags: art, away, cosmic, crying, escape, forest, god, heartbeat, hope, independance, poem, Poetry, running, self, tears, trees 4 Comments

Cosmically baptised

That endless world they talk of.
A Drowned world.
It opened in my heart when the starry waves washed inside.
When you looked at me.
With that light of god in your eyes.
And in that moment, like that pebble in your hand.
You grasped at the infinite.
You consumed my soul.
And we would remain forever bound.
Like that pebble in the ferocious stream.
Washed endlessly by the cosmic current.
Until clean.

01/10/202217/05/2022 by Mark Ryan Categories: holy, soul, spaceTags: baptised, baptize, cosmic, eyes, heart, light, love, ocean, pebbles, poem, Poetry, religious, river, soul, soulmate, space, universe, water 3 Comments

Calling you higher

The saints who watched with silent eyes.
Unrolling the clouds in heaven.
They know you tried, they watched the break.
Bones adjusting to the weight of the world you bore.
They smiled when you continued onwards.
Knowing that the wall was part of the plan.
The fall, part of it all.
And in your dreams they slip feathers into your soul.
Cushioning against the silver spread of the galaxy.
Mercury in cosmic form, washing over the moon.
Falling into your broken cracks.
When you lift and rise, carrying on into the darkness.
The feathers float, and the sparks flare.
Taking you away from there.
And the darkness retreats like the ocean at night.
So you may walk the sand with god and me.

28/09/202128/09/2021 by Mark Ryan Categories: angels, divine, moonTags: angels, cosmic, divine, galaxy, god, lift, love, moon, poem, Poetry, rise, rising 5 Comments