The Wild Indoors of Where I Live, A Collection
Carolyn Mills


The Wild Indoors of Where I Live

I am hidden
In the wild indoors of my mind
So I busily search
Expurgating the viruses
Extricating the entanglements of seaweed
The candles in some places were blown out before they were even lit
I sing through the bamboo stick with a vow to not be the hollow hole in it
and as I do
Beehives store the power of freedom
While my desires swarm in the sweet honeycombs
To be prolific

I find a tree, so very bare
But it stands tall
Uncovered from the shackling leaves
It is unashamed
Found offshore in mystery
This is the epitome of my aspirations

Part of my will holds the broom and stares at the chaos
Where is this lifeless dust blowing to...
How much longer will the ashes sit until they become alive
I cant be silent any longer inside of illusionment

I enter in further
Energy swirls out of a bathtub... install a plug!
Passion tries to jump out of a whirlpool... take away the container!
How fast is passivity falling upon the fire
Must it fall...
Make a fire in the driest area so everything will catch on fire and become impassioned!
To not even look at the color grey...
To not tolerate false securities...
To not follow institutionalism...
But to know and experience true living first-hand
Without listening to speakers or reading inspiration
But to go to the inspiration and see it face to face

Do I really see things as they are?
How many layers of illusion falls over my eyes?
Im longing for substance...



The Black Piano

When my fiery fingers
Stroke the keys with warmth
I become a part of the black piano
Blending into the hidden harmony
Waterfalls bathe into the chords
Unspoken reverences envelope the pedal's effect
My eyes look into space...
It tells a story of a mystical garden
Where I awaken into love's grasp
Greatness echoes across the listening room
Draping my eyes with sunshine's tears
For love is suicide to the self
Harmony speaks authentically to




My thirsty doors open to God...

Lingering in unlimited security
Is a still breath of life
Touching my fragility with loves embrace
Carefully reminding me of the overcoming truth
Compassionate eyes stream in
Telling me of a rich story
Where light splashes dance in victory
Amidst the chasms of pain
Healed by a generous spirit

Compassionate eyes spill out seeds
Absorbing my hurt into its whole sponge
Entwined with threads grief
pain and peace coexist
firmly anchored in faith
a healing to my bones
a honeycomb sweet to my soul
transcending circumstance's release

I tuck in
To sustain my spirit
Given as a gift from God

**Be Filled to enrich lives**



Go Forth and Be fruity

An unseen war is raging
Across the cradle of humanity
Our tears plea for sincerity
The shallow pool of artificial sacrifice
Is often what we wade into
Innocence keeps jumping love's rope
In the high unforeseen lawn
Growth elapses into a fervent fire
But the worn rope doesn't rip
For love's visible rope is genuine

Society has turned its back on Meaning
Rebelling from authority is its control
The roots frown at its motives
Abuse whispers gently throughout
That there is no mature fruit

We must hike the opposite hill
We must face the saddening reflection of society
Its bloodshot eyes bleed from overdose
Do you hear humanity weep for deliverance?
A disease of the soul eats away at its own bones
We must not desert warfare
Because that which is lost is not far away
The light will reveal the darkness

Lets meet on the instructing ground
In a connecting circle to pray
We are not abandoned from our shortcomings
For our dirty boots can saturate into love's everlasting perfume
Sensitive cotton-balls can absorb rain's trueness
lets go forth and be fruity



Into the Desert of Grace

In the desert of grace
A sacred waterfall runs wildly
Never in haste it runs
Groanings roar across the land
Always for hope they cry
Destiny's mercy listens closely
Adjusting its lens with kindness
Outstretched hands never hide when imperfection comes
They open wider as the barren land becomes naked
Wider they open to reach the groaning
Exhaustion has a purpose to it
A purpose since Restoration comes humbly in white
In white it comes to cleanse and fill
Disregarding the desert's unworthiness
Its attention always is drawn towards the water's bridge
Where a soul can cross to the other side
Crossing to evacuate from the half empty desire
Love will forgive the tedious wanderings
Dry rain is not its problem anymore
The wind will fly away from the burnt wick
It will be lit again with the match of grace
An offering of selfish living is accepted
Into the desert of grace it goes to deny itself
Why should it die
To live in grace



The Puddle of Reality

As you look into the puddle of reality. . .
Do you stay and see what you may become
Do you run away with fear's handkerchief

When you look at your soul's passion. . .
Do ashes lay in piles
Does a fire burn within

When you look upon your heart. . .
Is it deceitful above all things
Is it hardened
Is it softened

When you look upon your hands. . .
Are they calloused with hardness
Are they touched, do you touch the untouchables?
Are they giving, do you feel anything at all?
Are they lifting someone up or shoving someone down

When the clock strikes into finality. . .
Will it echo with pierceness upon your puddle
Distorting the melancholy reflection into chaos
Will it sing of life's touched

Are you the pilot of the ship
Running swiftly over the puddle of reality
Making no waves beneath and behind your rudder

Are you the leper which is never touched… never helped
Are you searching for someone to touch your flaws and not run away

If so. . . there is a Healer
If so. . . there is a Pilot
Greater than you
To lead you on to salty adventures
Where you can stare into your puddle's reality
And no destruction will await you internally

Where the puddle of reality is struck with lightning. . . . .


Copyright 1999 Carolyn Mills
Published on the World Wide Web by ""