Purpose…
… to know my worth exceeds the grave and cradle, that each breath holds meaning and each second depth, yet,
When I ponder of my existence I feel more alone than ever.

I do not wait for the apocolypse; neither enlightenment nor end days for both it seems to me pander to the reaper…
… And I find no sense in surviving the darkness in wait for God’s mighty hand of justice, for what point lays in waking, breathing or ultimately kindness.

… I do not believe my woes to be the karmic debt of my Father or his before, have you ever met these men? To spend a moment in their presence is to know the strength of my conviction.

I tear holes in the ideology that we are born to die, that greatness is achieved on death, I ponder how many false martyrs are formed this way.

The same sun that will warm my soul will also burn my skin, and the same snow that ignites my spirit will freeze my heart, yet still I can be found dancing beneath them and when eventually I die, I will tell great stories of the way Gaia touched my soul, the way stars ignited my heart, the way darkness gave me light and light gave me darkness.

… And when I am before my Diety,
when I am asked,
am I happy to be home,
I will say yes..

“But to have lived, is the greatest adventure of my existence.”

Karen Hayward ©2017

No claim to image

I cannot find Selene…

For a moment
I forget to breathe
My body is stilled
beyond sight
Dreams whisper,
reality screams
darkness floods
the thin veil
suffocating
weight,
fighting,
voice stolen
breaking,
nothing
Illusion, delusion,
breathing.
Waking…

red numbers
tell me tonight
is lost, four more
hours till dawn
I count the
stars I cannot
find Selene.

Karen Hayward ©2017

Image found on google 

There would be silence…

There would be silence, but for the low hum of the fridge and the sporadic whir of traffic that gently trickles along the dark roads. There would be silence, but for the distant echo of thoughts that swims against the current in my mind a chaotic flurry of nothingness and everything. There would be silence but for the silent echo of past spectres and future  spirits haunting the time lapse of consciousness between the furrowed cracks of existence. There would be silence between the particles of darkness, void space, negative equity without life’s illumation. There is silence betweens life’s muttering. There is silence on the nights tongues, silence in his touch that creeps across my soul, silence in the shadows that whisper to me of loneliness. There is silence echoing through the vortex of time. There is silence. 
Karen Hayward ©2017

Without the Rainbow Pieces.

Photo courtesy of Walter E. Gantt. ©2016

‘Pieces of a Rainbow.’

waltergannt

I feel a vast emptiness inside of me,

spreading through the black storm

clouds, I search for my Rainbow and

I recall you gave it away.

And I search  for my love

and I remember you gave it away.

And I wonder where is my passion

and I recall you gave up that too.

And I ponder the way we once connected,

perfectly synchronized

and I don’t even try as you gave that away…

And now I wonder what is left…

A future?

A future without love

without passion

without soul

…is a slow and torturous death.

Karen Hayward ©2016

Image used with permission ©Walter E. Gantt. 2016

Please see more of his amazing photography here on g+

His wonderful photography can also be

viewed and brought here at Fine Art America.