Carolyne DeBlois
Actress and Writer, Los Angeles CA
Home
by Carolyne DeBlois
My heart was imprisoned
back then.
It fluttered on clipped wings
locked away within my
rib cage.
And like a bird
it learned
to sing.
The song it—
shifted my perspective
my soul no longer
captive.
And in my self-awareness
I reached a higher state of
consciousness:
A flowing from above
filtered through my ego
somehow in this
letting go
I’ve found a new kind of liberation
though the
ephemerality of my own
mortality
It ends in Quest-
ion
This seeking is the point
the answer is
meaningless without
pursuit
So:
Are you the flower?
Or the root?
My heart still beats between
these bones that
this little bird
has learned to call
Home
The Artist.
by Carolyne DeBlois
He is an artist trapped in a profession.
Bleeding himself dry with his own obsession—
to create.
Breathe.
These numbers I see painted on the walls of our universe
illuminate the shadows of my underground thoughts.
Love is not simple.
Rather like a complicated proof it combs through your subconscious
Desiring to be uncovered — in reality the truth was already there.
Math was never beautiful.
It complicated my life and I fought it because I didn’t
understand that science and spirituality are just different
ways of proving the same truth — there will always
be things that we won’t understand in a universe which is
constantly expanding.
How lucky are we to exist?
On this planet.
Right here.
Right now.
Breathe.
He tucks something up his sleeve
An idea written on a paper airplane tossed thoughtlessly away.
Math still doesn’t make any sense.
Its not a forte for me the way words are.
I just finally see one is a reflection of the other.
We still understand beauty in a moment when we don’t speak
the language.
The challenge is to recognize that nothing is either
good or bad.
I don’t know
could be the most powerful tool in your toolbox if you use it
Exponentially.
We make something good or bad.
What about: what is?
Breathe.
I am enough
Here
Now.