The Burning of Notre Dame

09dca93acff9a347002e219922186b5f

 

My heart bleeds in the flames of Notre Dame. 

We look to the spire, the hand reaching for the heavens, as a symbol of ancient protection. These architecturally beautiful monuments of historical whispers are reminders that there is something divine in this world. They’re a symbol of the bridge between man and the spiritual protector. The burning, crumbling stone evokes emotions akin to a grieving child at the funeral of a fallen parent.  

The bells are ringing in your ears. The bells that sounded so often through the city streets. A vibration that would paint the city in light, if only for a fleeting moment each day. Bells that would say, ‘Remember the true nature of your existence. I’m your protector, your saviour.’

Perhaps the tears are a realisation that the divine protection, that the connection to the spiritual realm, has been been destroyed. Perhaps the men fighting the blaze, frantically trying to save the ruin, are a symbol of our half hearted repentance. Like a man overcompensating when his wife has decided to leave him. He begs and pleads silently as he cleans the house and takes her out for a coffee mid week. But, she’s already destroyed. He can no longer salvage this wreckage. 

I grieve for the loss of such a beautiful cathedral.

Yet, the church isn’t a hand reaching for the heavens as a symbol of ancient protection. It’s a hand reaching down. Despite the fire, the chaos, the despair, this divine connection will be mirrored in the hearts of believers who recognise true, ancient love.

In the end, everything will burn. So what do we do until that day? 

Hearing Hearts

Once upon a calming sigh,
A gentle whisper flutters by,
Hidden just for one to know,
A secret code of hidden flow.

*

Sleeping deeply in myself

My heart knew not it’s parallel.

Never had a voice been heard

To wake it up without a stir.

*

Unveiled in a rapid beat,

My chest starts pounding rhythms sweet.

Not a choice to start to fall,

But an answer to it’s call.

*

A treasure trove of blinding light,

It wasn’t sought, it came in night

Such was the day without control,

I met the one my heart will hold

*

Written by Randall Evans.

*

I’m not done with this one, I’ll come back to it over the next few days. Comment below and let me know what’s going on in your world 🙂

Mind Control

Beware the path of instant dread,

That easy stream inside your head.

Red herrings swoop and plague your brain,

“What could be? Is it me?

Conclusions falling cold as rain.

.

Infant thoughts so soft and small,

While waiting longer for a call.

Clawing, scratching, desperate plea.

“What to do? Not a clue!”

Don’t follow your anxiety.

.

Quenching thoughts of self destruction,

Will your way to their disruption.

Avoid the fall into the view,

“It’s all done! I’m no one!”

And choose to think anew.

.

All you do is all you can,

Your mind’s direction needs a plan,

To stop the worry based on myth.

“I was true. Tomorrow’s new.”

Control the voices you live with.

.

Written by Randall Evans

The One You Need

Strive to be the one you need,

But search your inconsistency,

For injustice that is thrown on thee,

Reflects your incongruity.

***

What are the traits you have in mind?

Are they the ones you left behind?

As you seek it’s true you’ll find,

Staring back your judging eye.

***

Double standards in your heart,

So within yourself is where to start.

Look deep within and strip apart,

The real sin inside your heart.

***

For kindness to find be kind.

If selfless you seek, rewind.

The values you must align,

Should shine from a place inside.

***

Seek the one who makes you whole,

And be the one you’d want to know.

So when connection wakes your soul,

Your seeking heart can be on show

***

Strive to be the one you need,

But search your inconsistency,

Remember words graced from above,

Your neighbour as yourself you love.

***

Written by Randall Evans.

If you like it, hate it or appreciate it let me know in the comments below. I also love reposts… and chocolate chip cookies.

Hearts Don’t Beat

Is it ok to be happy ?

To feel a joy inside my heart?

Feeling soft and sappy,

Looking to a brand new start.

All my rhymes have rhythm,

That hardly change at all.

But crafting with precision,

Reflex not how in love we fall.

Messy, bright and typical,

My breathing tastes so sweet.

Inside I feel that I am full

Winter pierced with summer heat.

Hearts don’t beat when they’re in love,

They pump out warmth and light.

Endless streams of boundless dreams

Kiss a soul goodnight.

Written by Randall Evans.

***

Please connect with me below and let’s crash the WordPress servers with the amount of writing we do !

Gateway

Unexpected memory of a corridor
Voices roaring down the hall
A birthday held when I was four

Not for me, for the jolly good fellow.
An old man’s song if ever bellowed.
On a night that feels both mad and mellow.

I mused a moment, child’s mind,
Who were his friends there by his side?
They loved him then and so did I.

Lucky were the men back then,
To know my grandad as a friend,
Someone on which they could depend.

I wonder if he would be proud
If he had lived to see me now.
The singing voices growing loud…

He blew the candles on the cake
One day he lay and would not wake
Now floating down a gentle lake.

Nothing in this world will last
Our candles burn into the past
And shadow we no longer cast.

Unexpected memory of a corridor
Voices roaring down the hall
A birthday held at heaven’s door.

Written by Randall Evans

Puppy Dog Eyes

I’m a spot in a puppy dog’s eye,

I, in eye, insignificant am I?

The tiny speck in the cutest face,

You notice not my rightful place.

I’m a nothing, if not the key,

A detail smaller than a flee.

But details add to masterpiece,

Piece by piece and none the least.

Have you seen what draws the spots?

The mystic pen that draws in dots?

The ink that hides reality,

Designed by divine majesty

.

I’m a detail, nothing more.

To show creations biggest flaw.

That normal isn’t that at all,

It’s overwhelming art and awe.

Written by Randall Evans.