She and I were friends
Friendship added spice to our lives
And so it went until one moment
While wishing each other good night
At her doorstep
She whispered something in my ear
What it was, I don’t remember
I only remember we were friends

As painful as it is, we must learn about our limitations. We should know if the light we pursue is not a moon ray or if what we are chasing is a ghost or an illusion. We should know this because our spiritual peace, money, happiness, and health are at stake on the road to success.

Food for Thought.

Why, with all the power we possess as children of an almighty god, masters of all on Earth, discoverers of the unknown, explorers of outer space, conquerors of nature?

Why do we, scholars of all sciences, seekers of truth, creators of lies, why can't we, with all the power invested in us, find happiness?

My statement, highlighted below, invokes a profound reflection on the meaning of life. Since the beginning of times, suffering has accompanied humankind, and thus, suffering has been subject to deep study by thinkers, philosophers, and humanists, as well as most religions have built the core of their beliefs in suffering and sacrifice. Martyrs and heroes for diverse causes throughout the centuries have found that suffering is how to reach God or find life's meaning.

I was standing before a bouquet
Left on your grave by some unknown good soul
A long time ago, I must say
For the flowers had withered already
To the point of becoming thus brittle
Almost dust

So, do you want to become a great writer a master? Then, follow those who, with their words, have moved your soul forward. These are some of my favourites, but you can add yours and make this a most precious list:

Wrath comes from within
It comes from within us; it comes
Like a geyser, it surges up
Like a volcano in eruption
Burning
The burning miasma
Wrapping it all, the wrath
Like a tsunami
It surges
Like a vomit
Empties the soul
Nests in the bones

So, if you, as a writer, have difficulties describing a scene or one of your characters, I leave here this fragment for you to consider and study. It is an excerpt from the novel “Underworld” by Don DeLillo.

You've opened a wound
It's something you must define
It didn't make you wiser, though
You're still the same
You've hurt someone, but in truth, it was you who hurt yourself
The wound is a sun that you cannot cover with denial

I have a dream
It’s not a big dream like a giant gorilla that beats its chest and roars
And the entire Hollywood trembles
On the contrary, my dream is little, like a little restless monkey
And it’s so playful that I must keep it in a cage, which is my rib cage
Close to my heart
In there, my playful little restless monkey dream hangs from my heart
As if my heart were a tree branch
I feed it with lies, sometimes
And it goes bananas
Bananas!

I decided to open my heart today
And I invite you to do the same
To dry your tears, to reconsider your thoughts
If they were sad if they were negative
To look around you for the opportunities
That surround you
Your neighbours, your friends, your family, yourself

A poem is like a pearl, and I'm the oyster. The idea comes to me, and I grasp it and hold it in my heart. Then, I start working on it like the oyster does with a grain of sand. And so, I work and work and work around it. I'm covering and expanding this idea with my feelings, with more words built upon my original word, until I form a pearl, a bright musical pearl, a precious rhythmical pearl, my finished poem.

Gone are thine Shadows

Come out to the Light

Thou! The suffering Thou!

Shine!

Do not fear Anything.

Do not listen to the negative Word

You are not Wrong

Because it is thee who Feel

Who thinks

Who sees Reality

It is thee who see the Miracles

We know that there are four things we have no control over:

Who are our parents
Where we are born
The acts of God
Fortuity events

We can control everything else if we have the chance or the will. Or can't we?

A sentiment formed over the years out of disappointment
Grew in me against God, a grudge I left Him to judge
My grudge grew because of health and money, because of fame
Health, money, or fame that was my claim
"God!" said I, "Lord!"

Time exists, and within time, life exists, and then we exist
And within these stages through the ages, strife strikes life
With the past, present, and future of which no one is sure
Despite this, the world spins and swirls and continues to whirl
And so, the average people live locked in a cage as they age
And no one can stop the reel. No one can break the seal

Don’t ever be lazy not to go the extra mile to find the name of the person you are writing to, whatever you are writing, in formal writing, be it a proposal, a pitch letter, a letter to a politician, etc.

It’s not enough for you to write, Dear C.E.O., Dear General Manager, Dear Author, or, even worse, “To whomever it may concern.”

You must build a connection in the first line of your document. Remember this: a person’s name written in the right place might be the key to opening that coveted proverbial door.

Time played tricks on my body
My face turned into a mask
Years passed and pushed my face
Into the depth of an abyss
And it fell and fell, and fell
It went through the test of time
I looked at myself in a mirror but not to look
At the face that I remembered
No. Not the face I remembered

So, my friends, I'm looking for my Bill Clinton. Here is the explanation: While on my quest to promote my book, "Capricious River⸺, which is an exciting journey where magical and real events entwine around the endangered vegetation of the Amazon rainforest⸺, I stumbled upon a story told by Paulo Coelho, the author of "The Alchemist." You must know the book for sure. It has sold millions of copies and has been translated into more than fifty languages. Not bad. It is a dream achievement for most of us who struggle to make our book known to most.

We march on the path of wrath
To feel the peace
We walk on the path of salt
To taste the honey
We march on the path of thorns
To smell the flowers