“small acts of kindness are never wrong”

small acts of kindness are never wrong 
  they are like small ants among the sand dunes on their way across the oceans of bliss

 forgiveness begins at home.  it takes a large broom to the karmic debts unremembered.  the monks in the high mountain monasteries sweeping the hallways and porches are whispering mantras -for themselves and also you and me. 

I thought I could walk thru walls and I think I did once upon a time 
flying through the sky at night remote viewing - dropping into a living room of someone across the planet listening to their conversation. I began to traverse the veils of time till the sword entered my thigh. That was the end of that.   

 The ghosts of tomorrow are listening to our conversations now with greed upon their tongues ready to swallow the tasty thoughts of their choice. They wait for a default, an optional desire, a wound to appear that they can grasp and swallow up with delight

I close the door to the haunting of myself. 
The road back to the heart has rubble, mud large rocks glass and blood to clear. 
 I took a rifle and buried it in the ground face down
I took a hammer and smashed the barrel into small pieces to tear apart the thoughts that take up war in my mind. 

I see your hair flaming red burning the need for revenge which never ever ends 

I light a candle for the sound of silence to penetrate the walls of my despair and yours if you have it and grow a garden of light to rest upon 

People are full of things to say
I am at a loss for words

anything to add Jesse