Scott Hastie

“I am sad, like the hot dust on the streetsAnd the music of fresh fallen leavesCaught in a sliding summer breeze.”

“Once spun,The silken thread of all our aspirationsRemains intact,It can never be broken.”

“Be content to love, to dazzle in the light,If only for moments…And then be gone,With gladness in your heart,Before the creeping shadowsClaim too much your sadness at leaving.”

“I knew such a woman once,She gave me everything.Her love like a soft riot singing,She knew how to shine.”

“When in love or inspired,An eternal kiss from the divineAwaits us all.”

“I am just like you,Destined to play my part.And leave,In the nature of my departure at least,Some kind of sweet message behindIn the fathomless pattern I make.”

“The sacred bequestOf times long spent with your heartThat saturate and illuminate you nowSo piercingly…”

“Where once there was a void,Now at least there are Seeds of splendour,Becalmed belief for another time.”

“And so we smile on,Feeding the truths we shareWith a union of our souls,Cathedral slaves of our passionWhich builds beauty amongst chaos.”

“Be as audaciousAs you wish.By all means look to the heavens.”

“Sacred space in whichTo distil, like amber,The best of your love.”

“The sea, the sea…Man alone,Passive, unawareIn his elemental sadness.”

“In this life at least,Our fate is rarely epic.Maybe just as well,Impervious heroes we are not…”

“Let us have no guiltLeft to wasteFor dreaming still.”

“How stubborn life is,It clings like silver in our souls.”

“Be brave enough to never yearnFor that you cannot hold closeIn your heart forever.Tread lightly, cherish compassionAnd live in the moment without fear.”

“Birth our night into dayAnd bathe it clean,So that beloved things can glowTogether in a litter of light.”

“We too can repair our cracks with goldAnd glow again.Crazed by life,More beautiful than ever before.”

“Here, illuminated at last,Nestles the ruddy glint of spiritual certainty;Sweet moments of passion and healing,Of sensual release.”

“On the canvas of life,Every sweep of the brush matters,Counts for something…”