So Pariah, dig in again
He was there,
When I was fourteen,
And had finally got away from home,
Where the terrible thing had happened,
He rocked me in his arms every time, night after night,
When my terrors shook the whole household,
He was the only one who bothered to make sure I was okay for years,
And then later, as we grew older,
The love changed and was sealed with a passionate kiss,
And a promise of an undying love.
And now - the ascetic, the hermit on the mountaintop,
Who calls himself the Pariah - the outcast,
Reaches out to me and asks for my comfort,
Now, three decades later, nothing has changed,
When we are together, we speak of nothing ordinary,
Of anything at all that is small and real (OOA)
Because he and I remain disconnected and apart from things,
The promise remains the same,
He'll never be the Pariah to me,
I give him my comfort and ask him to begin again.
Inside of me so deep, Burnt into my retina, When awake & when asleep. It's like a bad smell, That just won't go, It rattle...
Listen while you read Ever since I can remember I wanted a life out of the rat-race but was unsure how to make it a reality... I wrote ...
The Tiny House Movement is not just about lifestyle, it's about attitude. Over the past twelve months I have almost: married agai...
I'll be back soon with more news about the Tiny House Movement including natural health & beauty tips, simple/frugal & back to ...