Paw Prints
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Posted:May 31, 2022 2:59 pm
Last Updated:May 31, 2022 3:01 pm 2970 Views
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Cleo’s journey to me began on a summer’s day in 1995. It was just like every other day that summer, except a field mouse made an appearance in the bathroom while my mum was perched on the toilet.
Much commotion ensued. It was decided then and there: We needed a cat. My dad asked around at work and, luckily, a secretary was harbouring a batch of kittens in her barn. We agreed to take the runt of the litter.
When Cleo arrived at six weeks old, she weighed barely half a pound. I was 10, about to enter Grade 6, and remember snuggling her under my shirt, trying to feed her a bottle.
In hindsight, it’s obvious why I was such a sucker for her underdog story. A decade earlier, I was born to a young, single mother unable to care for me. She relinquished me to the state, which placed me up for adoption. My new family lived 800 kilometres north of where I was born, but just a few miles from the barn where Cleo would end up duking it out with her brothers and sisters.
If she was disadvantaged at all from her start in life, you wouldn’t have known it. In her younger years, Cleo pulled down the Christmas tree and the curtains with a regularity that made my parents question their decision to adopt her.
She roamed free around our house on the edge of a remote Alberta town, regularly dropping mice on the front step, thus fulfilling her assigned duties (aside from that one time she dropped a half-dead mouse on the shoe rack). My dad was convinced she fought off a hawk, based on the talon wounds she ambled in with one morning. In those days, it was a rare treat to wake up to her head on my pillow.
Cleo was spirited, affectionate, enigmatic, but really she could be anything we wanted her to be. Later in life I came to realize pets have a way of filling whatever voids we need them to. If we’re lonely, they offer us companionship. If we’re misunderstood, they offer understanding. If we fear we’re unlovable, they love us anyways. As a , I was all of those things.
Cleo had an uncanny way of appearing on my bed and licking clean my tears. She was by my side when I realized I may never look into the face of someone who shares my blue-green eyes or learn the origin of my olive skin. In a world in which so much felt slightly off, it seemed Cleo was made just for me.
We spent 10 years apart when I went off to college, but we were reunited for what I like to call ‘the retirement years.’
Cleo was 17 at the time. We had both grown up and had more love to give. She moved in with me, her head now a constant on my pillow. Soon she needed stairs to get onto the bed.
In our decade apart, I’d turned into a busy professional, pragmatic to a fault - and yet, I thought nothing of her waking me up countless times a night.
Like so many people, I had become stuck in the cycle of being ‘busy’; life somehow turned into a steady string of commitments. Though I had a hard time envisioning how could fit into the chaos, my life readily morphed to fit a geriatric cat.
I found myself turning down social events, wanting nothing more than to be at home with Cleo asleep on my chest, snoring lightly in my ear. I’d lay still for impossible periods of time as my neck stiffened and my bladder filled. She’d burrow her nose under mine and I’d inhale her exhales.
Soon, the incline of Cleo’s stairs became too steep, so my dad built her a new set from scratch in his shed. They stuck out about half a metre from the bed. We dubbed it the ‘royal staircase,’ which seemed to soften the blow every time my boyfriend stubbed his toe on the way to the bathroom.
As Cleo’s age crept up - 21, 22, 23 - I spent many hours committing her to memory.
Her smell: a mix of cat food and fur and duvet cover. Her nose felt like velvet. She had this way of collapsing perfectly into the nook of my arm and exhaling with a heavy purr.
I knew the sound of her entering a room off by heart. First, the click-click-click of her right hip - like a tired grandfather clock that occasionally skips a beat. Then the whistling, her lungs heavy, gurgling and growling, almost like a gremlin lived inside of her.
In her final months, I started taking Cleo with me everywhere, and this was the first time she saw the ocean, in Port Renfrew, B.C.
Our vet was continually amazed by Cleo’s good health, saying if she didn’t know any better she’d have guessed she was 12 in her 22nd year. I looked up the Guinness World Record for oldest living cat and as recently as 2013, a 23-year-old feline held the title. We had a chance.
But on the day Cleo turned 23, everything changed. She started having seizures and, after a flurry of vet visits, we learned they were likely caused by a brain tumour.
I cancelled a back-country hiking trip, stayed home for the rest of the summer, and tried every alternative therapy under the sun: acupuncture, Chinese herbs, CBD oil.
We eked out a blissful three-month seizure-free period, and then she relapsed. I came home from a surf trip and she was a different cat - weak, confused, barely able to ascend the royal staircase.
The end is a blur of memories, most of which I wish I could forget. Giving her a bath in the middle of the night after she peed herself (she purred as the warm water hit her skin), watching her struggle to walk (I cried), covering the mattress in absorbent pads (anything for Cleo), hearing her hiss at me for the first time (the moment I knew it was really over).
Cleo had reached 111 in cat years, and it appeared our extraordinary run was over.
The morning before we said our goodbye, she bounded up the royal staircase onto the bed, landed her wet nose on mine and cleaned my face. I’ve never savoured a moment more in my whole life.
The next day, after another seizure, I called our vet and asked her how to decide when it was ‘time.’ She said to just be with her and listen to what she wants. I signed off from work, curled up in bed with her on my chest and asked if she was ready. About an hour later, she projectile vomited and had the most horrifying seizure I’d ever seen. It was time.
I spent the afternoon on the bedroom floor with her. I put on my thickest socks, filled a hot water bottle I’d had since childhood and tucked her under the blanket on my chest. I’m not sure who I was comforting - me or her.
When I packed her into the car, wrapped in warm towels, she mercifully didn’t wake up. The song ‘Shallow’ from a Star is Born started playing on the radio as I pulled up to a traffic light. ‘I’m off the deep end/watch as I dive in/I’ll never meet the ground.’ The light turned to green. ‘We’re far from the shallow now.’
And then it was over, just like that. The moment I’d been dreading for a third of my life. I came home and robotically cleared away her things. No more water glass on the floor by the bed. No stairs to stub our toes on. No Chinese herbs on the counter. No hip clicks or the sound of her breathing. I could barely eat for four days.
In the days after Cleo died, I clung frantically to the physical evidence of her. I backed up all my photos twice. I texted my parents, asking them to remove her litter box and then panicked at the thought of them discarding it, realizing I could use it as a flower planter. I woke in the middle of the night, gripped by the realization I didn’t have a video of her dipping her paw in my water glass.
She was everything I’d ever loved. She was homemade chocolate chip cookie dough and the feeling of sun on my face and the faint memory of my mum singing to me in her rocking chair.
I dreamt of Cleo night after night - her wet nose dabbing my face; finding her in the guest room and realizing she hadn’t died after all; giving a eulogy for her at a memorial hosted in my high school gym.
Most of my friends empathized with how hard it can be to lose a pet, but others didn’t get it. Some people didn’t even acknowledge my loss, which left me reeling not just from losing my companion since childhood, but also questioning my right to feel sad in the first place. I knew the world was full of such greater tragedy, but I also knew that losing Cleo felt like cutting my heart out of my chest.
My grief was disorienting and alienating. And yet, I found myself feeling clearer than ever about what I wanted in my life. I became kinder to myself and felt my heart opening to friends and family in new ways.
Three months after Cleo’s death, on a gloriously sunny spring day, I was sitting in my doctor’s office. After 20 years on the birth control pill, I was finally ready to talk about going off it. All the messiness and hardship of having had begun to look less daunting and more worthwhile in Cleo’s wake.
Cheryl Strayed, the author of Wild, said on her advice podcast that the gift of grief is how it changes you.
It was hard to see at first, but it’s clearer now. Loving Cleo - and losing her- changed me in all the very best of ways. She taught me to slow down, to be tender, to make time for the people who matter. She taught me that when we run out of heartbeats, how much we loved is all that counts.
When it came time for Cleo and I to say our final goodbyes, all I could say was: thank you. Thank you for 23 years and 6 months. Thank you for comforting me through some of the ugliest moments of my life. Thank you for showing me the best parts of myself. Thank you for teaching me how to love.
Emma Gilchrist
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The Struggle to Let Go
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Posted:Apr 27, 2022 5:56 pm
Last Updated:Feb 11, 2023 5:18 pm 3710 Views
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’Saudade: a nostalgic longing to be near again to someone or something that is distant, or that has been loved and then lost; the love that remains.’
When it comes to matters of the heart, it doesn’t matter whether we have known someone for just a few moments or for many years. Love knows not of time or distance, as Kahlil Gibran explains: ‘It is wrong to think that love comes from long companionship and persevering courtship. Love is the offspring of spiritual affinity, and unless that affinity is created in a moment, it will not be created for years or even generations.’ Therefore, when we have that affinity and an indescribable, indefinable soul connection with someone, it can be almost impossible to forget how it once felt - or to try to pretend that it didn’t, or doesn’t still, exist.
This is why, with certain people, as much as our head tells us that it is time to move on and let go, our heart simply refuses to agree. The reason for this is that whether we like to admit it or not, we all crave a deep, intimate connection, because there is nothing more healing and nourishing for our soul than being immersed in energy that dances intimately and harmoniously with our own.
Just like a drug, we will always crave the sensational highs that came with the deepest sense of connection we have ever experienced. Whether it is mutual love or not, if someone evokes feelings that shake every fibre of our being, it can be extremely difficult to continue on without that person playing a significant part in our lives. This can seem tragic at times, and for some people, it may mean they place themselves in a position in which they could be treated poorly; it may lead to being taken advantage of or being treated callously. However, for others, it is a journey that takes them through limitless lessons - and even when there is pain or separation, the heart continues loving, learning, stretching, growing, and opening wider despite a strong temptation to permanently slam it shut. When we are in this kind of dynamic, we may tell ourselves over and over just to “let it go” and move onward, far from all the memories. However, the reality is that when we focus so much energy on letting go, we actually achieve the opposite and create a stronger magnetism to the person. To let anything go, we must surrender to what is. We must understand what is, and we must accept our fated circumstances without attempting to push or pull them out of sync. It may sound crazy to some, but many of us will even grasp tightly to people we know are bad for us - people who cause us turmoil and trauma - and yet, we still can’t figure out why we want (and feel like we need) them around so badly.
Loving unconditionally is a tragically beautiful condition of the human heart. Despite how often we speak of ‘unconditional love,’ it is a rare occurrence, which makes it so utterly addictive when it is found. We can read every book on the planet and listen to every piece of advice that good friends offer, but our fingers will not uncurl from the grip of someone we love until our heart fully understands that we can never lose someone who is simply not ours to begin with. No person ever belongs to another person, even when they have made marital commitments, so no one needs to hold on to those they love.
The very essence of love is that it is fluid and ever flowing - and it cannot be controlled, stopped, or restarted simply through determination and will. We long for someone because we want them near, and that is perfectly natural - however, we cause ourselves so much anguish and pain when we believe that just because we love them, we also need to have them physically close to us and playing a daily part in all that we do.
It is okay to exist in this world without being physically present in the lives of those we love. It is ok to love from a distance. It is okay to accept that not everyone who deeply connects will forge a life with one another. It is okay to feel grief and sadness as we feel the one we love silently slip away. However, we do not need to worry our minds and hearts with the ‘hows’ and ‘whys’ of letting go of anyone. All we need to do is remind ourselves that love cannot be trapped; it requires space and freedom. The highest form of love is to continue loving despite the circumstances not turning out as we might have hoped, dreamed, or wished for.
Unconditional love is not for the faint hearted - neither is it a choice that anyone makes. It just is, or is not - and it can be both pleasant and unpleasant; therefore, when we find it, it can feel like both a blessing and a curse. Regardless, it is something we have to come to terms with if we want to live in peace, as the nature of unconditional love is that it will continue to exist with tenderness and forgiveness lying at its roots. The very notion of ‘letting go’ is entirely an illusion. Truly, we don’t need to let anyone or anything go, as we aren’t actually holding onto anything tangible. All we need to do is vulnerably love and accept the other person as they are, whether near or far - and most importantly, without demands or expectations.
Surrendering to love is the most powerfully healing and transformational thing we can do, and sometimes it is our only option - because, whether we like it or not, when love is true, it lingers on.
Alex Myles
Elephant Journal
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Nine Years Into Forever
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Posted:Apr 15, 2022 10:59 pm
Last Updated:Mar 18, 2023 3:36 pm 3710 Views
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Love is drawn in the form of a circle. No one knows where it begins, and it never really ends. You and I, we are just forever. Always, and all ways.
Dance with me under the diamonds
See me like breath in the cold
Sleep with me here in the silence
Come kiss me, silver and gold
You say that I won’t lose you
But you can’t predict the future
So, just hold on like you will never let go
Yeah, if you ever move on without me
I need to make sure you know that
You are the only one I’ll ever love
(I gotta tell ya, gotta tell ya)
Yeah, you, if it’s not you, it’s not anyone
(I gotta tell ya, gotta tell ya)
Looking back on my life
You’re the only good I’ve ever done (ever done)
Yeah, you, if it’s not you, it’s not anyone (anyone)
Not anyone
Forever’s not enough time to (oh)
Love you the way that I want (love you the way that I want)
‘Cause every morning I find you (oh)
I fear the day that I don’t
You say that I won’t lose you
But you can’t predict the future
‘Cause certain things are out of our control
Yeah, if you ever move on without me
I need to make sure you know that
You are the only one I’ll ever love
(I gotta tell ya, gotta tell ya)
Yeah, you, if it’s not you it’s not anyone
(I gotta tell ya, gotta tell ya)
Looking back on my life
You’re the only good I’ve ever done (I’ve ever done)
Yeah, you, if it’s not you, it’s not anyone
It’s not anyone, not anyone
Oh, oh, oh, oh
If it’s not you, it’s not anyone
Oh, oh, oh, yeah, whoa
Yeah, you are the only one I’ll ever love
(I gotta tell ya, gotta tell ya)
Yeah, you, if it’s not you, it’s not anyone
(I gotta tell ya, gotta tell ya) gotta tell ya
Looking back on my life
You’re the only good I’ve ever done (ever done, oh, yeah)
Yeah, you, if it’s not you, it’s not anyone
Anyone
Justin Bieber
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Through the Looking Glass
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Posted:Mar 11, 2022 8:23 pm
Last Updated:Apr 11, 2022 3:04 am 3888 Views
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Kat had become restless thinking about the days that had recently passed, each one exactly the same, blending without contrast one into the other. Time had passed in much the same way, the seconds stretching into minutes and the minutes into hours. It was almost as if time had ground to a halt since the day she and Sariel had said goodbye to one another, the white rose petals falling from heaven like her tears. Since then life had lost all colour and meaning - and she found herself wandering aimlessly upon the rainbow path that had once stretched before her with such hope and promise.
The day was grey and cold, matching her mood perfectly - and the rain that had begun as a light drizzle in the early hours of a Saturday morning now continued into the afternoon with no signs of letting up. If anything, it had become steadily worse Kat noted wryly as she wrapped her sweater more tightly about her before walking over to curl up in the cozy window seat just off the master bedroom.
Watching the rain fall was something Kat had loved to do ever since she was small. It was a love passed down through the generations from a grandmother to a mother - and then from a mother to the youngest of her 4 daughters, the one whom she had named her “blue eyed dreamer.’ Indeed it wasn’t uncommon for her Dad to come home from work in the evenings to find the two of them curled up together, huddled by the large picture window in the family living room, talking and laughing as Kat regaled her mother with the fantastic stories she had invented.
Kat smiled to herself, remembering those times with a touch of nostalgia. A comforting warmth wafted up from the steaming cup of chai she held in her hand, enveloping her completely - just like a hug from Mom. The soothing aroma took her back to a time when she was young and carefree - unbound by the pressures and commitments of life. A time when she had felt so protected - and so loved … wholly, unconditionally and without expectation. If only she could return to those days again she thought wistfully - if only.
She turned towards the window once more, completely mesmerized by the falling rain. The steady downpour soothed her senses, lulling her gently with its rhythm until she felt her eyelids grow heavy. The drops trickled in broken, jagged lines down the glass - as though in a race to reach the bottom where they would melt into a large pool of water that had collected there.
Kat let out a sigh, gazing with sadness at her reflection in the murky glass. How many days now since she had first begun to feel lost in a life that was no longer her own? They had become far too many to count. Lately it seemed as though everything around her had fallen out of place - the synchronicity was missing and her life felt like a mismatched piece in a broken puzzle. The crushing weight of sorrow pressed down upon her - and she bowed her head, a single tear escaping from beneath the fan of her dark lashes. One day she would have to learn to embrace the pain … for only then could she ever begin to let it go.
The rain began to fall harder outside her window now and Kat could feel a dark lethargy begin to creep in. The urge to surrender was completely overwhelming and she found herself gradually letting go, giving in to the dark currents that were pulling her under. She let her head fall gently until it came to rest against the soft cushions beside her.
With the last bit of strength she possessed, Kat tried hard to shake the strange feeling of drug induced sleep that threatened to engulf her - but she knew she was fighting a losing battle and the soft whisper of the raindrops brought the painful memories rushing back once more. From the darkest corners of her mind she could hear his voice speaking to her like a gentle wind caressing her cheek, taking her gradually down below the surface of sleep … mein aapko zindagee bhar pyaar karthi rahungi … mein aapko zindagee bhar pyaar… mein aapko zinda … mein aapko … mein …
The very moment her eyes closed, the tea cup Kat had been holding fell to the floor, shattering into a thousand razor sharp pieces, each one reflecting her image in its delicate polished surface. Her breathing became deeper now, her body limp - and she could feel herself falling as if from a great height, into a deep and unnatural sleep. Falling, falling … like Alice down the rabbit hole.
From somewhere within the chaos of her thoughts and forming the backdrop to her dreams, the rain continued to fall - leading her back once again to the place where her heart would always remain … leading her back to Mumbai.
~~ Isabella
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An Insomniac’s Dream
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Posted:Mar 11, 2022 7:32 pm
Last Updated:Apr 8, 2022 6:13 pm 4057 Views
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I missed you today. Between waking and sleeping, I thought of you.
We met somewhere inside an insomniac’s dream, in a world so precarious it could crumble at any given time, folding at the slightest touch.
I wish I could have a day with you, where the sun never went past noon. Or a night, where the stars could go on forming their constellations .. until the sky was filled with stories of how I loved you.
You once told me that you had to bend time and space to be at my side. But it would be for a moment you had said. How long? I asked. But it was already over, long before the answer could leave your lips.
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Doing Whatever it Takes
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Posted:Mar 1, 2022 5:47 pm
Last Updated:Mar 5, 2022 7:25 am 4012 Views
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On March 2nd and 3rd you will welcome the healing waters of the Piscean New Moon into your life. Pisces is the sign of unconditional love, which is why it is said that love from a Pisces is like no other. And why it often changes us forever. This new moon has the capability to change you forever if you don’t give up.
You have been asked in recent weeks to contact what your heart genuinely wants. To heal those parts of you that have been working against you and to set a path forward determined to have it be different this time. This new moon amplifies this energy - but in unexpected and new ways.
Both Uranus and Jupiter will be figuring heavily into this moon bringing unexpected surprises and blessings along the way. But there is a price to pay. You will be tested. You will want to give up or find every excuse not to keep working on your dreams. But only you can be the one to find the one reason to carry on.
The themes for this new moon are patience and to stick to a path that is full of integrity. It does not mean that you may not upset a few people along the way. But that is to be expected when you follow your heart. In fact, it’s how you know you are doing what you need to do rather than what others want you to do.
Remain open to unexpected blessings on this moon and moments that give you the stamina and reminder of why everything that you are going through is worth it. And then stay patient. Because remarkable things always take time.
Midnight blessings.
~~ Kate Rose
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Light a Candle
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Posted:Feb 20, 2022 9:34 am
Last Updated:Feb 23, 2022 2:58 am 4956 Views
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Our story tonight is called Light a Candle and it’s a story about reminding each other about the light that lasts through the long nights of winter. It’s also about a busy kitchen full of family, cinnamon and walnuts, and a memory of something shared that felt very special.
It had started slow like a snowball rolling down a soft slope, the darkness arriving earlier each day. In the autumn I barely noticed it, but in the last few weeks that snowball had picked up speed and now it was ready for a top hat, carrot and twig arms. All at once it was dark before dinner time and not just dusky. Not the extended gloaming of summer, but sudden - as if a switch had been flipped. I mostly enjoyed it, took it as a signal to go to bed a bit earlier and generally to spend more time cozied up at home. I tried to think about how my ancestors would have met the change of seasons. Those that had lived on farms would have taken time to rest, to turn their attention to making things rather than growing them, and looked forward to visits from neighbours and family. Those that lived in cities and towns would have looked for lighted windows in the houses of friends, shovelled snow away from doorsteps and bought or made special treats for special days.
I thought it must be a universal experience when the sunrise and sunsets get closest together that people look for a reason to celebrate something, to enjoy favourite flavours, to sing or dance and to light a candle. Tonight we were lighting the first candle, gathering at my uncles house, cousins and grandparents and siblings. Someday soon it would be the turn of the younger generation to take over the hosting duties, but tonight I was happy to simply show up and be fed, be surrounded by my family, play with the and relax.
I had a few simple gifts to share. Usually on the first night of Hanukkah we kept it to chocolate and dreidels for the little ones. I had a bag full of gelt but also a few really delicious fancy chocolate bars for the grown ups. Driving over, the sun was getting low and I thought I would be there just in time. We lit the candle as the sun set. Looking at the candy tucked in its bag beside me and thinking of nightfall, I had a sudden flash of memory. Riding in the dark often brought it back and it was a beloved recollection. I’d been 10 or 11, riding in the car with my mom. She’d picked me up from band practice and my clarinet in its case was wedged between my feet. There was a song playing on the radio, something we both knew and sing along to together. Driving through town, streetlights reflected on my window and I got lost in watching people on the street. My mom kept a secret stash of chocolate covered raisins in the arm rest console between us and she’d revealed them to me with a wink. We took the long way home, eating candy, singing to the music and watching the lights. It had become something we shared and I looked forward to it whenever I sat in the half circle in the band room beside the flutes and saxophones squeaking on my reed. And now, many years later it came back to me like a sweet, recurring dream whenever I drove in the dark at the beginning of winter.
At my uncles house, the driveway was full of cars and I smiled to myself as I parked and walked up to the door. I could hear the voices of so many of the people I loved, talking, laughing, directing the cooking in the kitchen and the setting of the table in the dining room. In my family, you don’t have to come in the front door. You don’t need to knock or be formal with the greeting. Once you’re family you just come in. So that’s what I did. I pulled open the side door that led into the kitchen and stepped into the thick, delicious smell of fried treats, pulled off my coat and found a spare hook for it in the hall.
It seemed like the rooms were sorted by a generation as I walked through. My parents and aunts and uncles were in the kitchen, frying off the last batch of latkes. There was always a slight difference of opinion about the cooking and as I swiped a piece of rugelach from a plate and ducked out, I heard the usual arguments about the jelly donuts, store bought vs homemade going on behind me. My grandparents were already at the table, waiting with varying levels of patience for the evening to begin. The youngest ones were running with excitement through the living room and out the back door into the yard and back in again. My cousins and siblings were chatting in clusters, wine glasses in their hands, teasing in the way only people who’ve known each other their whole lives can do. That’s the thing about family. I mean I loved my friends and had holiday traditions to look forward to with them too but family love is of a different sort. Deep and abiding, unmoved by the years.
I was handed a glass of my own and savoured the last bite of the rugelach, the cinnamon and ground walnut filling melting in my mouth. Then I was shooed out of the way as plates were carried through to the dining room. I moved into a corner by the front door, just standing with my glass in my hand, watching the activity. One of my young cousins came to stand next to me, leaning her shoulder against my side and I slipped my arm around her. She was a quiet , probably a little overwhelmed by the noise and though I wondered how school was going, I didn’t ask her just now. I was usually the person she went to when she needed an anchor in the storm and I was most likely to be the family member watching and listening, rather than talking and asking questions. I thought it was possible that when she was older, when she had her own house full of people to feed on Hanukkah, she might have a memory of a shared moment with me like I had of driving at night with my mom. And in that moment, night fell. The windows were dark and we found our way to the table. We would recite the blessings, sing the songs and light the first candle. We often only got to be all together on one night of the eight but each of us in our own homes would add another candle each night. I’d heard a haiku once written hundreds of years ago in Japan but it felt very familiar. It said simply .. light one candle with another any evening of spring. Yes, all over the world we had an instinct to pull each other through the darkness of winter and into the light again.
Nothing Much Happens Podcast
Kathryn Nicolai
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Light From a Distant Star
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Posted:Feb 18, 2022 8:03 pm
Last Updated:Feb 20, 2022 9:47 am 4969 Views
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”There are days when you might feel that I don’t remember you. I’m not texting you, not even calling you. What you don’t know is, all those times, I was the one waiting for you to remember me.’
Asi
Come lluvia en el desierto estas aqui
En mi, sin ti
He vivido tanto tiempo sin sentir
Vuelvo a nacer a vivir
Se despiertan mil colores
En mi ser, por ti
Quisiera llegar hasta tu lado
Sentir que me llevas de la mano
Quisiera perderme en tu mirada
(y volar)
Sentir que tu amor detiene el tiempo
(y so? ar)
Llegar a ti, llegar a ti
(y volar)
Como palomas en el cielo
(y so? ar)
Hoy se
Que a tu lado hasta el final yo llegare (yo llegare)
Lo se. ooh lo se
Por ti
Nacen versos nuevos cada amanecer
Mi inspiracion
Mi voz
Eres tu la fuerza que me hace
Creer, mi fe
Quisiera llegar hasta tu lado (hasta tu lado)
Sentir que
Me llevas de la mano (de la mano)
Quisiera perderme en tu mirada
(y volar)
Y volar sentir que tu amor detiene el tiempo
(y so? ar)
Y so? ar llegar a ti, llegar a ti
(y volar)
Como palomas en el cielo
(y so? ar)
Quisiera llegar hasta tu lado
Sentir que me
Llevas de la mano
Quisiera perderme en tu mirada
(y volar), y volar
(y so? ar)
(y volar)
Como palomas en el cielo
(y so? ar)
Llegar a ti, oh llegar a ti
Llegar a ti
(y volar) oh
Yo quiero volar contigo…
(y so? ar) aah
Llegar a ti, oooh, llegar a ti mmmm-hmm
Jaci Velasquez
Llegar a Ti
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A Thousand Years
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Posted:Feb 7, 2022 7:59 pm
Last Updated:Feb 13, 2022 8:07 am 4748 Views
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… and my love for you shall always remain. Like the light from a distant star I will guide your way, seeking only to find you for a thousand years and more.
Heart beats fast
Colors and promises
How to be brave
How can I love when I’m afraid to fall
But watching you stand alone
All of my doubt, suddenly goes away somehow
One step closer
I have died everyday, waiting for you
Darling, don’t be afraid, I have loved you for a thousand years
I’ll love you for a thousand more
Time stands still
Beauty in all she is
I will be brave
I will not let anything, take away
What’s standing in front of me
Every breath, every hour has come to this
One step closer
I have died everyday, waiting for you
Darling, don’t be afraid, I have loved you for a thousand years
I’ll love you for a thousand more
And all along I believed, I would find you
Time has brought your heart to me, I have loved you for a thousand years
I’ll love you for a thousand more
One step closer
One step closer
I have died everyday, waiting for you
Darling, don’t be afraid, I have loved you for a thousand years
I’ll love you for a thousand more
And all along I believed, I would find you
Time has brought your heart to me, I have loved you for a thousand years
I’ll love you for a thousand more
~~ A Thousand Years
Christina Perri
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Stardust
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Posted:Feb 7, 2022 7:03 pm
Last Updated:Apr 17, 2022 8:58 am 4933 Views
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If you came to me with a face I have not seen, with a voice I have never heard, I would still know you. Even if centuries separated us, I would still feel you. Somewhere between the sand and the stardust, through every collapse and creation, there is a pulse that echoes of you and I.
When we leave this world, we give up all our possessions and our memories. Love is the only thing we take with us. It is all we carry from one life to the next.
~~ Lang Leav (Memories)
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