Tag: love

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A Grand Ocean

beatrizesmer

In the hallowed halls of our being, we are but mariners adrift in the vastness of ourselves. This body, a grand ocean, cradles the mysteries of the deep—hidden reefs and sunken vaults, where treasures beyond measure lie in wait. Dare to dive beneath the surface, where the light of understanding flickers in the dark, waiting for the spark of curiosity to ignite its flame. In the secret chambers of the soul, kindle your inner lantern, let it guide you through the labyrinthine gardens of the self. Here, in the verdant groves within, rare orchards bloom with wisdom’s fruit, and peacocks … Continue reading A Grand Ocean

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Landing

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Your presence, a gentle landing that stretches days into endless horizons, brightens the mundane into a kaleidoscope of joy. I find delight in every hue, hear sacred whispers in the zephyr’s breath. To love you is to become an alchemist of beauty, crafting splendor from the ordinary, learning the seasons of bloom from the words you speak. My heart embarks on a sacred journey, seeking your essence without the intent of return, for love is the ultimate offering, expecting no reciprocation. With eyes wide open, I witness your emergence amidst the foliage of time, and with skin yearning for warmth, … Continue reading Landing

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Sacred

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The sacred is not confined to hallowed halls or holy texts; it is the quietude in a hammock’s sway on a lazy Sunday, the anticipation in an airport’s embrace. It is the stillness between life’s cacophony, a late-night tea, a duvet’s cozy retreat. Sacredness is the aroma of a meal, the earth’s perfume after rain, the silence of a fulfilled desire. It is the window that frames the dying day, the kiss that speaks without words, the surrender of entwined souls. In a room of cherished memories, the sacred finds its home, a gentle reprieve from the mundane. It coexists … Continue reading Sacred

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I wonder why arrivals never hurt, I wonder why departures always do …

beatrizesmer

I am captivated by the ebb and flow of existence; the comings and goings that stitch the fabric of our days. Each breath, a silent witness to life’s fleeting dance, marks the rhythm of a world in constant motion. The rise and fall, a testament to the cycles that govern us — the heartbeat of the cosmos in the chest of humanity. The push and pull, a force as old as time, propels the cars that rush by in a steady stream, each a vessel of stories untold. Hellos and farewells punctuate our journeys, brief encounters that shape the narrative … Continue reading I wonder why arrivals never hurt, I wonder why departures always do …

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Sometimes love says goodbye

beatrizesmer

In the quiet hours of the night, love often takes flight, a specter slipping through the grasp of those who wish to clasp it tight. It is a wisp of smoke, a fleeting dream that dances just beyond the beam of our desperate lanterns. We reach out, fingers trembling, but it evades us, always just out of reach, leaving us with the echo of its whisper. Love, they say, is a wild thing. It fears the cage as much as the bird within fears the sky. It is the untamed wind that howls at the door, the river that overflows … Continue reading Sometimes love says goodbye

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Gratitude

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In the warm sanctuary of our home, where the hearth glows with the warmth of unity, let the table overflow with the harvest of our toil. May it be a testament to the bounty we share, a cornucopia of plenty that nourishes not just the body, but the soul. Let our house be a hallowed place, walls steeped in the echoes of laughter and love, a sanctuary where every stone is laid with the mortar of respect and every beam resonates with the strength of our bond. In the gentle clasp of hands, may forgiveness be an act most divine, … Continue reading Gratitude

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No Regrets

beatrizesmer

In the quiet aftermath of a love that once burned bright, they come with furrowed brows and curious eyes, all echoing the same inquiry. “Do you regret it? Do you regret loving him?” The question hangs in the air, a specter of the past that seeks to weigh down the heart. Yet, in the stillness of reflection, my answer is a resolute whisper, a declaration of strength born from the ashes of a bygone flame. “I will never regret loving him,” for in the act of giving my heart, I discovered my boundless capacity to feel, to endure, to hope. It was in the … Continue reading No Regrets

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Tie yourself to me

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Tie yourself to me, for in the embrace of our unity, the vastness between us is severed by the tender graze of my lips. They whisper across the miles, a delicate touch that quiets the weeping rose, its petals a testament to the tears of joy shed in the wake of love’s gentle caress. Tie yourself to me, for the sands of time may be mute, but our hearts converse in rhythms and beats, a symphony only we can comprehend. In the silence, where words dare not tread, your name becomes the anthem that fills the void, a sacred echo … Continue reading Tie yourself to me

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Just Words

beatrizesmer

In these trying times, where shadows loom and silence reigns, we stand at the precipice, teetering on the edge of oblivion. The world, so ravaged and bare, cries out for a sliver of hope, a beacon to pierce the overwhelming darkness. We are not mere fragments, adrift and alone; we are the sum of a greater whole, bound by the intangible threads of shared existence. It is the melody of life that binds us, the rhythm of beating hearts, the silent symphony of interconnected souls. In the embrace of another, we find the courage to believe once more. For in … Continue reading Just Words

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Our Story Unfolds

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Our story is not yet done, whispered by the winds that carry secrets through time. We, weary travelers, bear the weight of countless sunrises and moonlit nights etched into our souls. Bruised to the bone, we wear our scars like constellations, mapping the journey of our existence. Parts of us have departed, seeking elusive balance. They wander through the labyrinth of memories, tracing the contours of forgotten dreams. Each fragment, a puzzle piece yearning to reunite with its kin, dances on the edge of destiny. In the quiet hours, we listen to the echoes of our own longing. Seeking out … Continue reading Our Story Unfolds