Snippets By Jonathan Berman

February 23, 2014

[10:57p]

And when it's all ending, tears having washed the world to the bird of truth. At the mountaintop with head bowed to the earth, there'll be a voice that whispers gently to you, "Sweet child, you are not alone. Behold my child, you are going home."

February 15, 2014

There are songs that flow like blood, and they run through us with the persistence of everything we imagine of love and I think, if you drained me of it all, left me dry bones with just this song playing above me in the air... there'd be more than enough to keep me going, and waiting for the moment when I'd hear you call, the river would run us on through this world, and right on down the hall.

February 13, 2014

Somewhere between the shallows and the deep, the birds that fly, and the things that creep...

February 9, 2014

So there I was, with a cat under each arm, and one under my hat, wandering through this world all alone, well, except for the cats... and what we saw as we walked across the threshold of this dream you call a world, and the brightness had no name, but we liked it just the same... and I fell to my knees, thankful that the darkness had a place for me to go to after all...

February 5, 2015

The body is an illusion... For sometimes we feel so small and other times we feel so tall, not above it all, but in tune, master of matter...like a hatter... Trust your vision, even when surrounded by doubt, for only you walk the winding path, and hear your heartbeat shout.

~*~

"We all need a mountain to climb, and a puddle to splash in." 

Now it's complete, sometimes perfections takes two authors, like yin and yang to create harmony.

~Jonathan and Linda

February 2, 2015

For I have been wuthered by the heights,
and the lows.
In the blank canvas of winter,
I found the paint of my soul to put there.
With the brush of my breath, and the promise of love before death.