Author: Tom (Page 13 of 71)

Tom is a stroke survivor, a seeker, a meditator, a veteran firefighter and rescue tech, a motivational speaker, a poet, and a blogger (new site) & author. He is also the father of three and as their student and teacher, has found applying spiritual practices to all aspects of life provides a vast amount of possibility and abundance. Tom has discovered that true forgiveness is the key to a pure heart, and a pure heart can lead us to wondrous experiences.

You can also connect with tom on <a href="https://www.facebook.com/Tomgwriter55/".

We Know

February 23, 2019 / Tom

She holds my hand
And I am instantly alive.
She strengthens what is strong,
Inspires me to heal what has cracked,
Collecting pieces of me I’ve left strewn about the field.

Voices say,
“Distance will never work
The continent between is your enemy.”

But they don’t know us.
They don’t know,
That as I swim in the pool of her eyes
That I have found a place that I wish to bathe forever.

The voices can’t feel
The sprinkle of moonlight that flows across my skin
When she touches me.

They can’t feel
How what was once uncertain seems so sure
How the sand becomes stone
How the mist of sea crashing across the stones
Becomes an ocean once again
In the moment when my ears hear her voice.

They can’t see
How my soul dances just at the very thought of her.
They can’t hear the music within me
That calls her name.
They can’t feel the spirit within me
Rise tall and fly high above the plains
Just for a chance to feel her arms around my waist
And her head on my chest.

Lover’s know
The certainty of this truth
For we pity those
Who have never felt God’s head
Nestled tightly against their shoulder
As Her fingers draw love poems on their skin.

Or felt the spirit of truth
Wash over them like a summer rain.

So while they say
“It can’t work”
We who love not from a place just of body or mind
But from a place they, and sometimes we,
Cannot understand,
We know differently.

We know a truth
That guides us through fire
Sees us survive the storms
Has us reach a summit
And a shore
That lovers would call Destiny.

Lovers know a truth.
We follow a star that sometimes only we can see.
Float in a breeze sometimes only we can feel.
Die a million deaths just to be alive the moment that we meet.
For what is never certain for many,
Cannot be more sure
For us.

What Unfolds

February 22, 2019 / Tom

Today began as a snowy one here in Boulder, Colorado. The breeze has scattered the fine white droplets before they find a resting place below, and I’ve awakened before my normal time. I’m usually awake by 5 or 5:30 am and finished my meditation and morning rituals by 6. Today, I was up before 4:30, and out of bed by 5:30.

The dreams. Those fucking fullish-moon dreams. They rattle me sometimes, even when I can’t remember them. My eyes open as if something bad has just happened yet I can’t remember for the life of me what it was. It’s like finding a bruise on your inner thigh and not being able to explain it. I just know there is a black and blue mark somewhere and it isn’t very comfortable.

That’s how I woke up this morning. Uncomfortable. Unsettled. Imagine waking up and finding your entire living space disheveled and having no idea why. You trip over fallen books and shards of broken things until you can find a light switch that may, or may not, work. I’m standing there, in the middle of this disarray, hoping that I don’t do myself any injury while hoping everyone else has survived. Now, where is that light switch?

For me, that switch is meditation. Today, I found some cool vibes on my phone and tried to settle into the frequency. Soon, the sound vanished and I’d become melted into everything. Whatever comes from there is not truly up to me. It just comes.

This morning I just felt the cold. I felt naked in the winter, my skin dampened by the snow as the air chilled me past discomfort. I had chosen to be outside in this condition, but the weather had changed and now I was cold. I looked for shelter and found none. I hoped for a fire, and saw none. I was at the mercy of the weather, and I don’t like being at the mercy of things I’m unable to change.

I called out only to get an echo in reply. I tried to find my footprints in the snow but the wind had erased them. I knew in my soul the only thing I could do was keep walking. Something would show up; either a fire or shelter or death itself. Whatever it was, the answer didn’t reside where I was standing, but where I was going.

So I walked. And walked. Then I walked some more. In the darkness the snow was getting deeper and it was becoming harder to walk. My body was aching from the cold, and I was getting tired. In my Being I heard a voice telling me that I could just give up and lay down or I could keep walking. One was to die, the other was to live.

I came out of my meditation just as I had come out of sleep. This meditation was disorienting, and seemed to be suggesting to me that I was soon to be tested. I know I am under some amounts of stress, but that didn’t seem to be it. It felt as if something was coming, the weather was shifting, and I was going to have a choice to make.

True to form, I will wait to see what unfolds while trying to remain an active participant.

Our Language

February 21, 2019 / Tom

I once saw the radiance
Born from once-again,
Alive in what I have never-known,
Until that moment when your light burst through the clouds
Holding me tightly in your array,
Speaking to me slowly in ways I could not understand.

Love demanded I learn your language,
And set me free from my ignorance,
Embracing poems and prose I wanted to comprehend,
Patience, I am no doctor, I reply,
Slow, I am falling and have no wings slow my tumble,
Love, Yes! And I begin to understand.

If I meet the ground
There will be no softness in the landing,
I’d rather fly and kiss the clouds with you,
Glide above the thunder and the lightning,
Tickle your soul with the Light from up above,
Taste you in the droplets of moonlight all around.

My mind knows the truth of my crashing,
The burning ground, debris scattered for all to see,
Yet here, I see a flower sprouting through the ashes,
Its fragrance overcomes the acrid smoke that’s in the air,
Like that moment when you touched my heart,
Made cracks in the armor that kept me ignorant,
Now filled with gold flowing from your fingertips,
I hold you close, we now see the clouds far below.

Now, we create a language all our own,
Foreign to some but known as truth within our souls,
Take my hand as I take yours,
Walk with me across the bridges
And ridges
Of the time we have remaining.

For I love you, and now I understand.

The Mountain

February 20, 2019 / Tom

You called to me
I heard you standing in the forest
The blue skies hugging your form
Like a wedding dress
The billowy clouds dancing in the breeze
Like your veil
Begging me to your altar for a kiss
I was only too happy to oblige.

I climbed to meet you
Stumbled, fell, stood again
“Keep going,”
Said that fire burning within
“You may have come here faint of heart
But that is not how you will stay
For this love will see you strong
In this passion you shall endure.”

Now I have surrendered
Reaching for the ring
Praying to be bound by the promise
I heard when you called to me
When the ground began to shake
And a mountain rose before me
I saw your highest place
And I knew that I must go there.

Love rose high above the prairie
The moment you stood before me
Fraught with danger and blessed views
Filled with trails on which we struggle
And shady places we can rest
Here, the streams tell tales of springtime
And what’s blossomed in the altitude
Is truth. I love you so.

A Balance in Love

February 19, 2019 / Tom

I have felt,
Swayed so in my fears,
Lost in my happenstance,
Creating illusions from the shadows on my wall.

Who is she,
This fragrance unforgettable,
The one raising my conscience soul,
From the slumber of 2000 days?

Who am I,
Or rather who do I wish to be?
The one who was carved from stone,
Or the shards left strewn about at the mercy of the breeze?

What is love,
If not the breath of mountain air,
A salvation from all exhaustion,
The miracle that pulls us from the tomb?

What is love,
If not the hand that steadies me when shaking?
The idea that comes to me in the absence of my mind,
It is what I’ve been born to know.

Steady me when my ground is shaking.
Breathe life into me when the end seems near.
Be there when that final bell,
Of that final round,
Rings and all I can do is shout your name.

I can steady myself for sure,
I have done it a million times before,
But what is love,
If not my acceptance of the hand that holds it?
If not the breath of life renewed?
If not the face that guides me beyond that final bell?

Know, that in your moments of unsteadiness,
I hope my hand is the one you reach for,
In the moment you feel you can walk no more,
My name brings you to your feet.
In the second that you face the demons in your mind,
You know that my sword is unsheathed to protect you.
Should you call,
I will answer.

For what is love,
If not who I am?
And who am I,
If not the gentle pools you bathe?

Unconditional (A Poem)

February 18, 2019 / Tom

I remember when there was this dream I had,
She’d be sleeping in the dark,
And all I could do is hear her breathing.
Something would make her stir,
Perhaps it was desire awakening in her dreams,
Or the way the spring breeze bathed her through the window.
Whatever it was,
I remember I could hear her say my name,
And I replied, “Yes, my love,”
She said then, “I just wanted to make sure you were there,
That I wasn’t dreaming,
So that if I was,
I would not awaken,
Tonight, tomorrow, or any other day.”

I remember the tear that spilled from my heart that night,
With her still sleeping in the dark.
And in my soul prose was written that would endure eternity.
I would not leave her,
and she would awaken,
Just because she could,
Me doing nothing but watching her sleep,
Honoring the solemn sound of her breath,
Protecting her sacred space.
With the chrysalis broken wide open,
In the morning I knew that she would fly,
And I’d be witness yet again to what was always amazing.
I could only hope to keep up,
To the one who was surely born to fly.

I uttered a prayer as her breath returned to sleeping,
Nothing but the simple want of a man born to watch her soar.
A prayer that someday she would grow to realize her authority,
And see how the willows stand tall to meet her gaze,
And the grasses bend softly to hold her resting form.
Perhaps then she’d still love me,
Tickle my senses with the flowers blooming in her field,
Kiss me tenderly as the Moon undressed us in its light,
Know love as I held her tightly to keep the dew from forming on her skin,
Listening to her breathe,
Always answering her call when she stirred awake
Before the morning light,
Waiting for the morning Sun to announce its sweet arrival,
And I watch her fly again another day.

Pen In Hand (A Poem)

February 18, 2019 / Tom

I sit praying, longing pen in hand,
The paper calling out in wanting,
Pulsing – dreams cutting to the bone
Yet the throbbing vein just will not bleed.

The sweet flavor that seeps from our togetherness,
My god! Words clotting as I seethe in this departure,
A half of my truth rumbles through my reasoning,
“Stay!” I just wish to yell across the pavement.

Yet nothing – the pen again falls silent,
Absent go my words, I’m forgetful while proving my resilience.
I just smile and wave with the other half of my truth singing.

Goodbye, I love you so.

A Valentine’s Realization

February 14, 2019 / Tom

I had intended this post to start as a testament to the over-commercialized day of love that is Valentine’s Day. In that version of this day, we are guilted, pressured and prodded into expressing our love. I was going to write about how the day once reserved for people in romantic relationships (or expressing their desire to be) had blown up into a day when cards and gifts had to be bought for everyone we know who may get offended at not being considered “important enough” to be our Valentine.

Then my youngest daughter did something that changed my mind. I took her to a store so she could buy gifts for her best friend.

“You know Valentines Day used to be for people in love. Now, it seems we have to get parents, friends, children, and even coworkers at least a card. It’s crazy,” I said to her.

She explained to me that her friend felt lonely on this day because she didn’t have a boyfriend. “Ah, the needs of youth,” I thought to myself, fully realizing that many of us never grow out of it.

She continued to explain that the gifts and card she was getting her best friend was to cheer her up and to brighten up her day. My daughter was, in fact, reminding me of why this day mattered.

I do, as I believe we all do to some level, sometimes get so caught up in my day that I forget to express the care and love I have for those around me. Sometimes my mind so absorbs my attention that I have little to offer those who deserve it. Sometimes I just am so human that my frailties keep me from that pulsing light within me dying to get out.

Perhaps, then, having one day whose soul purpose is to set an intention of doing all those things that may get lost on “normal” days isn’t such a bad idea. While I am not a big fan of the commercialization of such a day, I do see its value in our finding ways to express this love and care to those we feel it for. That doesn’t necessarily mean taking the easy way out and getting a card. Sometimes it means doing something special. A kiss. A note. Or just being together and sharing an intimacy that unites the soul and heart in one, awesome purpose.

I had gotten my daughter a stuff animal. I fell in love with its eyes. They were big and round and soft, and I knew she’d like it. I walked into her bedroom this morning and gave it to her.

“Hey. I saw this and thought of you. I thought you’d like it. Happy Valentine’s Day.”

Her smile was enough for me. Truly, she never had to say thank you or give me anything in return. Her smile was the gift, and the words she said afterward (that are between her and me) were just icing on the cake.

I have spent many Valentine’s Days alone. I’ve spent many with someone while feeling very alone. This year, and perhaps it is time, I don’t plan on doing either. In fact, I can’t remember feeling so “not alone” in my life. It doesn’t have as much to do with who is in my life as it does with how I not only feel about those in my life, but how I express how I feel toward those in my life. What’s truly different about this Valentine’s Day and all the others I’ve experienced is what is within me. It is also what I am allowing out of me.

So, Happy Valentine’s Day. <3

That Power That You Are

February 12, 2019 / Tom

Oh, My Goodness,
I see the power that you are,
The power that you share,
The power that brings demons to their knees.

You are the power
That lifts the Sun above life’s horizon,
Like Love’s sweet tempered mallet,
That breaks the very bonds of dawn.

You are the power
That moves the ether to a breeze,
Moves the grains of sand of every mountain,
Your breath gives the beaches to the sea.

You are the power
That dots the evening sky,
Changes darkness with a twinkle,
And points this mariner to home.

It’s you, for you are the power,
That floats the birds to kiss the clouds,
Do not doubt this,
Lest they all fall to the ground.

Now give yourself silently to prayer,
Let the words rise up within you,
Touch the hand of love that sits upon your chest,
And know the power that you are.

The Heart That Bleeds (My book of inspired loving poetry) Now Available on Amazon

February 12, 2019 / Tom

A beautiful compilation of poetry that celebrates the love of the soul before and after that soul meets itself in another. Available in both paperback and eBook formats

https://amzn.to/2SxwVQz