Micah Park Biffle

 I Had Forgotten     Red smoke plumes in the air. A brilliant, yet daunting sky of clouded crimson thickens the sky in sheets of billowed cotton. It rises with no sense to stop. The atmosphere frightens, yet heightens the senses with a strange tingle of pleasure.  We are losing our homes to the natural order. Yet I am not taken by tears, but by an odd joy of entertainment. For too long have I adhered myself to these pieces of physical wealth. Yes, through struggle, persistence and consistent efforts I have dawned myself with such rewards.  But for too long now, I have forgotten the path I had been taken. I had forgotten the many beads of sweat I spewed from the exhaustion to gain such things. I had forgotten the lonely misery I had fought. I forgotten the friends that lifted me, the moments that tore me down only to bring me higher.   I had forgotten the delicacy of a flower. The aromas of nature the beauty within myself and the beauty so n...

 A Servant Heart No more I cannot tell you what shall come of me, I am no god no titan. I bare no vision of my future. I am merely a man, a human. A straggling piece of flesh left by god. A possible scab flicked from his heart. Flung to the surface of earth in either affection or the sheer pleasure to see what can be molded of such.  I speak as any other speaks, from my throat. My tongue, its guide and my lips its companion. I walk as any other, upon my feet that bare toes for balance. I see as any other, from the interpretation of my brain.  I am no different than any other who stands upon this earth. We all carry hearts, minds, and imagination. But few I believe give themselves possession of their heart. Giving it only direction in the name of others. Following with idle eyes and lips that drool with obsession to please.  Groveling for devotion though they give none to themselves. Lingering in the shadows peering with feeble hands as they call out for d...

Do you Live on Exacts?  Today I had a thought, something that really struck my thinking. We are constantly in the vortex of what we think should happen. We often disappoint ourselves because things did not go our way or were somehow taken from us.  We look to things in the world as exacts. We see colors right, we see blue or white. We know one hundred percent what color they are. We see a building, we know it is a building. We pick up a book, we know there is a beginning and an end.  There are boundless exacts in our world, in the physical world that is. But there are no exacts in our lives, in our actions, in the daily process of every second. We can plan way ahead, we can take every precaution possible. To gain the results we want.  But no matter what we do, we may not get the exact results. We often place the expectation of ourselves and others as exacts. We often set ourselves up for constant disappointment and failure. Failure in the sense that we d...

Alone among the Rain Though the rain shall pour and I may sit alone atop a bench in an empty park. I have my dreams, my imagination and the pages I hold in my hand. Pages that are to be written as I wish. To be read as I mean them to be read.  Though this be an empty moment, a shallow grave for many thoughts. I shall continue thinking, being, doing. I shall live in the rain if I must, a constant wash of my suffering. I sit between the darkness and light, as do you.  In a struggle to not lean one way more than the other and sometimes I do. Sometimes the demons grasp my ribs and pull me. Sometimes the angels hold my heart and I allow such an embrace. I know demons be thy enemy, no matter their words.  But I am but a human. A soul torn from the eyes of god set upon this earth to fight. To win my way to my everlasting love. To raise up my wings and fly or set down my feet and walk. It is I who designs the story I read. It is I who sits alone among this cold night...

Do you Water your Seed?    Plant a seed in the heart, a seed of good intention. Each day, water that seed. Water it with good intention. Whether that intention be a smile to a stranger. A hug with a friend or a burst of laughter shared or in the presence of self.   But good intentions are not without struggle. For often in our road of healthy intentions comes distractions. We forget our intentions for the day, in the moment we are flooded with rain or are in a drought.   But here is thing, we control our weather. We control how these storms flood us or how these deserts dry out our hearts. We are the gods of our stars, our skies. What we wish to see in our stars and feel in our storms, is our choice.   As much as it is a choice to listen to music or watch a movie. Some, must fight harder, some are in constant waves of dreadful pain. Some are held to the grips of depression and some are held to manic swings.   But in my days and in my meetin...

Persaveve and A Storm  The ocean has become unforgiving. Its rage has expanded to the skies. The winds rush, clouds of murky black pour with rain. Waves rise with mighty violence, even creatures of the ocean are being thrust from the bowels of the ocean. Everything is wrapped in the chaos of nature. No shore is in sight, no birds fly, only the instinct to survive is what fights among these waters, and in the center of it all. Is the most relentless of instincts there has ever been upon these waters. The skillful pirate Persaveve, he has yet to be killed by those who hate him and those who wish to bring him to justice. It is told, that he had stabbed through the heart but was granted no death, for even the devil did not wish him in his house. To this day, it is believed that part of the sword that was forced through his chest remains within his heart. A six inch scar can be seen upon his chest from the blade. While the angry tantrum of the ocean wails upon the earth. Pe...