It may be the stuff of miracles

And you really should have died

But you come from

A long line of Empiricals

And your observations have never lied


About yourself .. or .. what else you saw

That brought you forward in this life

Until you stood at the precipice

Of .. all the affliction

Trying to ignore and then .. internalizing

All of that ****ing strife


Followed by seventeen years of agony

Filled with .. even more years .. of shame

And covered up with horror

How did you survive .. that much pain


What did you see

That .. turned it all around

What did you .. believe

That kept you above ground


And gave your heart

Back to your soul

Returning .. The Light .. to your eyes

You have become .. yourself again

You lost the Big Disguise.



Vitsec

Awesome.

* Wow, Vits, this is very heavy with both feelings and meaning. I enjoyed reading of your hand very much and do thank ye for tossing this heaviness our way. I always look for this natural depth in others here. You as well? Am so very glad now to have found this worth inside You.

Again, very, very deep, my good, wholesome and worthy friend, Vitsec.

Thank you,


tommo / Ireland

Thanks Tommo .. that one was about me .. I wrote it the morning not long before a lunch with one of my daughters who I had not seen for about a year. Our meeting went very well. I gave her a printed copy.

I very much enjoy the works of yourself, Leigh and some of the others. I have been busy this last year with many things .. so to begin with I was posting but not reading very much .. but now I am starting to get more into that.

You are an incredibly good writer and have a very unique, beautiful Old World style. If you are not published you definately should be.

I don't know how much ale it is that you may consume .. but if I could get to Ireland I would very much enjoy a good portion of that wonderfully liquid barley .. shared at your table as we exchanged our stories of life experience. :-)

Kind regards, Victor.

glad it had a happy ending- thanks for sharing - enjoyed reading

I so agree with Tommy, well done.

Victor, aye, one day mayhaps we can share ale t'gether here somewhere perhaps inside Dublin city, ( " . . . where the girl's are so pretty, " ) as the ol' song, " Molly Malone " goes. Indeed I find your style in whittling, so inevitably consequential and refreshing. Very deep with meaning and forthrightness. And of course - inner value. All does meet in the middle to produce that sense of calmed reality, ie: Prophetic. Prophet like.

You're definitely a good writer, Vic.

Be well, my friend,

tommo