Author Archives: blchapman
Break Free to Breathe Again
I must break free to breathe again . The power of life chooses when to burn as a fire or to
flow easily as a stream . The heartbreak of one is the heartbreak of humanity and will not go
down without a break in the hate .. The heartbeat of one will rise like the heartbeat of all and
break free to breathe again .
There are voices in the trees telling an unseen world of injury and giving lessons for healing
and there are righteous songs among the animals teaching of a courageous path to
break free to breathe again .
Each time this one human heart is fractured by the weight of despair, by the actions of lost
souls ,
renewal arrives in the power of a new moment , determination unrelenting , and the grace of
life in each breath
leads us to break free and breathe again .
‘Release’ soft chalk pastels 2012
#11
via Ancient Light
Ancient Light
The moon rise slides into place . It’s light inviting and inspiring . It commands your energy into new and ancient places . Is it deep sleep or restlessness that it brings ? It’s glow could you bring you home some night . And to a home that seemed vaguely absent it may help you to meet once again . On those rare nights when it catches hold of you , when you didn’t see it coming , and it takes one of your breathes away and you loose the insignificance bits . In that second there is freedom . Illumination in degrees is , at times , surprising . It may be necessary to decide to welcome the bright light and it’s warmth . It is there waiting to know your soul’s answer is yes . Yes to ancient light from stars long gone and yes to steering along a path set in motion when your first breath had begun .
……To be continued 
In The Dead of Night
In the deep quiet of the night there used to live an endless invitation to set your spirit to soaring . A time set aside for discovery and an opportunity to break the boldest or the most mysterious bonds holding onto you .
Now in the dead of the night are the children . Children that did not ask for this life . Children being criminalized simply for being alive . Children being whisked through airports like some strange secret , like a lie .
The wailing , the visceral sounds of the wailing of the innocent babes and their Mamas being torn apart will follow these men in charge to their graves . They don’t know it yet . But it will . Haunting a spirit for evermore will be the suffering caused by the deeds of men with no heart and no soul .
