Distant Intimacy (A Poem)

Our eternal bond crosses over from this reality, into the realm of endless possibilities.

Songs of purity ring out faintly through the dark abyss of forgotten and meaningless time.

In your smile, I see life.

In your eyes, I see change.

In the way life’s colorful winds enraptures us into a whirlwind of hope and intimacy, I begin to understand your soul as you begin to understand mine.

We lock eyes; forever hovering between that moment of contact and that moment of forever longing.

Awoken.

Yet now, in the light of day as I lay here awakened from the dreamy land, I find myself rediscovering what the purpose of life truly is about. Upon a land of tattered dreams and broken truths, I find peace in knowing there will always be love in the world.

In the dark of night; once found, I now find myself venturing through the spiraling corridors of truth. Within a kaleidoscope of endless torture, turmoil, and travesty – I now find comforting solace in my loneliness.

Your words were the only heavenly guide for my wayward heart. But as we’ve grown apart, I know our paths have diverged unto two separate and distant journeys.

I ponder only for a brief moment; ponder on what could have been. But I soon realize that I’ve become my own person as you have as well. You always knew that I’d wake up from my false reality to see the light of humanity’s truth.

We are beings meant to live freely when young. We are meant to explore both the physical world and the world within ourselves. We are meant to hold onto a deep-rooted intimacy with softened grasp; for nothing is ours to claim. We are merely guests to a world gracious enough to house us.

You were my everything, you were the joy to my life and the beating to my heart. But I’ve come to accept that there are so many ways one soul can love another. Even if it means from afar forevermore.

Forever in Your Debt,

R.S. Noel

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The Song of an Ancient People (A Poem)

Deep within our heart and soul, lies the song of an ancient people.

As the rivers flow with crystalline-clear water, and natural minerals – they sing in a reassuring calmness.

As the thunder roars in the distance skies and rain trickles down like a saddened God – they sing with a darkened sorrow.

As the winds howl in the wide-open plains of a verdant and plentiful landscape – they sing with a carefree spirit.

And as the raging fires of battle rage-on, they sing with a united strength.

As winter turns to spring, their tune changes from one of solitude to one of new beginnings.

And thus, as the song of the ancients echoes deeply within our hearts, it reminds us of our shared commonalities. Though we may all live different lives, even for a fleeting moment of being together – we all remember why we work, why we gather food, why we celebrate a new life, and why we pay our respects for the passing of old life.

A song of merriment, a song of devastation, a song of trial and error. That is the song of our peoples.

Soothing yet harsh, reassuring and deeply devoting – no sound or impression could ever take away such a beautiful and natural song.

It begins as a hymn and a simple whistle. But as more and more people gather, it builds-up like a mighty crescendo.

For those who have yet to be born, and for those who have already lived a long life – this is the song of undying hope. It is that of a higher-calling. It is that of an unending struggle to make ourselves better with each passing day.

So remember when you hear the song of the ancients, where you came from and where you’re going.

Forever in Your Debt,

R.S. Noel

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A New Writer

To be a new writer is to be born into this world for the first time ever.

It is to experience the wonders of such light and dark places. It is a thrill, a wave of feelings and emotions which drown you until you are reborn again, over and over. The process never changes, and the feelings never fade away. Yet new emotions will always take over old ones; making your heart beat wildly with silent joy, with unheard excitement, with untold fears. It all builds up in momentum and tempo, as you begin your journey with gusto and zeal.

To be a new writer means to stumble and make mistakes. Mistakes, however, that need to be made. Because without mistakes, there is no progress. Without imperfections, you will never attain the true potential housed deep within your heart, soul, and mind. To stumble recklessly and with feverish devout, is to be a new writer.

To find your voice, and your path, is what makes us new writers.

To see other people for the first time; to really see them, is what makes us new writers. 

We may never meet, yet I feel as though I’ve known you my whole life. We share an interest, a singular experience known to us as writing. What makes us so unique is this experience alone. We are the scholars of the world, the educators of generations yet to come into existence, and the dreamers for those who are not fortunate enough.

We teach others what life is truly all about. To remind people that if we were to lose everything; society, materialism, structure – all that is left is us.

Us; who have felt naked and lost for centuries upon centuries.

Us; who have been misunderstood by those who are not in-touch with their human emotions and thoughts.

Us; the truth seekers of the very fabrications that make up our collective existence.

This is what it means to be a new writer.

It is, to be human.

This picture you see in the header, is the very same one I took one year ago when I embarked on my final journey to become a writer for life. I’ve never looked back since that day I made this singular promise with myself. Life has never been the same since then.

I can feel the sun’s rays falling on my shoulders as I make my way down this familiar path.

This place, which I will not name, is the single place I come to whenever I have the free time to do so. To be able to wonder and imagine all the different worlds and lives I can experience life through. To be lucky enough to see different people for who they truly are at the core of their beings. To find strange and quizzical creatures who have a mind of their own. The gardens I get to walk through are timeless, the forests I can explore with my imagination take me to places I never knew existed; and most importantly, the lakeside that resides in this mysterious place holds a special place in my soul.

I can only imagine what life would be like if I never began writing.

I would probably never know the true meaning of friendship, or the real depths of hard-earned love. I would have never sought out to make a difference in this sometimes very estranged world. I would have never felt the need to stop time in my life and truly work on the only thing that has ever held any relevance in the world of reality.

Because in the end, all that really matters is you and I.

Don’t you ever forget yourself, or the power you hold inside. Because at the end of the day, only our memories and emotions for those who have passed, and for those who have yet to come, are the only things in life worth fighting for.

Forever in Your Debt,

R.S. Noel

Photo credit: (picture taken by me)