God

Metis


Metis 

On blossomed branches,
Hummingbirds rest in the scented shade.
The soil is moist beneath my feet;
What an odd place to find myself –
No recollection of my treading here.
Though it is a time for mourning, neither cries, nor tears to proclaim.

A traveler has much ground to cover, and many regrets to misplace.
I should have stayed with my first certainty:
With no expectations, I would have been spared –
As mountain-tops squander their flawless spring waters,
Lovers ignore the passing of Time.

And with my end so near, I could have shared some truths;
Had it not been for my forgetfulness, to save me from my youth;
But I have always found comfort in soaring above the clouds.

© Maria Fokas/ March 4, 2016/All Rights Reserved

Wheel of Fortunes


Julie-de-Waroquier

Wheel of Fortunes by Maria Fokas

I woke up this morning; what a grand thing, to make it through the night.
In all generalities, abstractions, and summaries, I can hear the ticking of life: The touch, the scent, and the taste of you, woven in my fairytales – And there, lies the generality of beauty – And there, lies the abstraction of love. Sketched in the mother of time; the secrets of our fate.

© Maria Fokas 2015/All Rights Reserved  –  Art Photography by Julie-de-Waroquier

A Touch of Light


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A Touch of Light by Maria Fokas

On dark days I attempt to capture the way in which the sun touches the leaves of its trees. I observe the sparks of light on the surface of the water caressing the coasts of homelands, and I know hope is not lost. It resides in the warmth of the light at the end of every tunnel we choose. We win a few, and lose a many – but what makes a difference is getting out of bed on mornings when the world seems cruel; when we see no purpose to anything. Those days are the ones to keep in mind, that in the end, it will all work out. So, God if you can hear me, thank you for staying close.

© Maria Fokas 2014

Two Strands


Two Strands TWO STRANDS by Maria Fokas

 A molecule encodes the journey.

It functions along side all known forms of life.

From what I recall, he spoke of two.

Did he mean souls? He used simple words. 

As I listened to his story, he described a backbone he had composed.

He claimed of an alternating attachment.

My thoughts ran in opposite directions to each other.

And I wondered how to change the law of anti-parallel worlds.

There must be a way for our souls to merge.

And if they do, how would we know?

Is there a code of love that guides us to the path?

It could be hidden within my cells, I do remember –

But he assured me – it is so unfortunate for memory to have its own set of rules.

So I will never know?  I asked.

Your interactions will guide you between the opposites.

To help control which parts to explore, and which to deny.

Physical laws and theories mean nothing without compassion, he added.

We are Isolated and then discovered.

The structure of all species comprises two.

They chain each other and coil around the same idea.

Is it the solution? I asked.

Solution; there is none as the measured individual  – repeats a small life,

Just give me a sign, I pleaded.

When she fears, it is a single soul, but as a pair she feels complete.

Held tightly together they embrace each other

Two long strands entwined like vines,

Their life repeats – strengthening the backbone,

Which holds the chain together with a ring –

But I do not understand, I said – one strand is opposite from the direction of the other

Do you not feel the two forces? He asked.

I don’t see it, I complained.

Then stop searching with your eyes. He replied.  

If the sequence is the same, there are no concerns.

Will I come to know through the passing of time?

Sense and thought overlap, but eventually you will know the difference.

And what does the truth look like? I asked.

Like a twisted rope. He smiled.

There is positive and negative, but you will have your chance.

How many do I get? I wondered

One in every lifetime. He uttered.

But how will I know?

When you can trust, you will know…

I don’t understand. I said.

You may speak in different tongues, but you will speak the same language –

He said before he disappeared.

© 2014 Maria Fokas All Rights Reserved

Stuck in a Moment


Stuck in a moment Stuck in a Moment by Maria Fokas

I look out into the world and see confusion; a reflection of what I feel inside. I suppose because something is missing. So much I don’t understand.

I know I’m not alone in the loneliness I feel every now and then. I wonder about that dark emptiness lurking beyond the shadow of my soul; like a black hole lingering in the far distance – no corners to confine it – scattered arbitrarily, or maybe abiding by a law of some universe keeping it at a specific point and distance but never to disappear.

The infinite darkness within holds onto me so tightly like a promised memory making sure I do not ignore its existence. There must be a thread that takes us back to when it all began I hope. Or was there no beginning and thus no end?

What an idea to accept; that within every negative we are sure to find a positive holding it all together – an empty space there to swallow us whole at any given time which could easily render shelter to a soul seeking to hide in its familiar darkness.

In an idea of no beginning and no end there rests hope of immortality of some kind…the kind only love can ignite. To never have been born and so never to die is a hopeful thought…and the silliest I’ve ever witnessed myself to believe in.  But my biology professor did tell me the existence of a human being presupposes he’s been born; “Structure defines function”, he said. Oh yes, but he wasn’t lecturing about the soul which resides in the human being.

The idea of the soul has no positive argumentation in academic minds clutched onto their need to be accepted as scientists. When speaking of spirituality they would compromise their position were they to argue for a thought fictional in the face of empirical research.

But the thought of superficial existence of the flesh as being the only existence; that which we can see and feel, and smell and taste…the thing that comes and goes – consuming but a brief moment of space in time; that is tangible and safe to discuss for its cause is DNA.

We are destined to be remembered or forgotten by the choices we make but that’s not what I’m talking about. I’m searching for that thread to the first idea of existence. Maybe the reason for the black hole…if there ever was a reason, or a black hole within, for that matter.

No, there must be a reason. I just have to remember. If I could only stroll down that twisted path of DNA, I would surely find the reason unless I’m completely wrong about that black hole waiting to be acknowledged before it can set me free.

“Would you be surprised if I told you that I believe there dwells the brightest star in the center of our deepest darkness?”, he said. “A light within us we cannot see from where we stand but easily noticed by loving eyes standing at the receiving end of us”. – Yes you once said that you saw light when you looked into my eyes. I remember that day. I was at my saddest but because of you I could smile.

My professor lectured, “…fused together…the beginning of a cycle …”. My hand was up to let him know that I can accept his science without abandoning my belief in eternity. He said, “Don’t be misled by your need to believe”. And then I remembered the beginning of the poem I never got round to finishing: “At the moment closest to her end, she will see the brightest star”.

But if I’m wrong and a black hole does not exist within, then my need to fill it up with light will never be met…no I cannot be wrong, not about the feeling at least…

I had a dream last night. A little girl with long brown curls asked me, “How long can you love him?”, …as long as my heart remembers, I thought. The little girl heard me and smiled …”the heart has a mind of its own…it resides in the star”, she said.

© 2013 Maria Fokas/Stuck in a Moment