heaven

My Poem ‘The devil is in the details’

Mark Hastings Poetry , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

When god smiles, rejoice…
when the devil smiles, run…
when angels save a life,
sing with all your voice…
when demons possess someone,
the only weapon against them
is to pray and summon
the light of heaven
to drive them back to hell
from where they are supposed to be
imprisoned, and fight the fear
of an endless night with hope
like that of sunlight.

When we think of hell
we think of flames…
when we think of heaven
we think of unwavering faith…
when we think of the devil
we think of evil…
when we think of god
we think of love.

Day and night, light and dark, good and bad –
an entire universe in-balance with itself,
that occasionally becomes imbalanced, by design;
just as every story has two sides to it,
what every story also has is a middle-ground –
a ‘grey state’ that exists
between every word of every line;
everything and everyone has a purpose –
some people have to dance with the devil
in order to get through life;
everything and everyone sometimes has to fight,
but you can rest assured that whenever you need one
there will always be an angel
in your corner and by your side.

When a single beam of light
passes through a seemingly-transparent prism of glass,
that single flash transforms
into a spectrum of many colours –
the same layers of reality
that the entire world is made up of,
from the most super-giant of stars
to the smallest particles of ash –
and when you see that rainbow
you are seeing the pigment
of everything and everyone
in the universe’s skin and eye-colour.

Questions beg for answers –
however, even fallen angels know
that some things are sometimes best left unsaid;
there would be no life
if there were not also temptation –
however, everybody has to learn a lesson
about the true meaning of life,
though some lessons
you can only learn the meaning of
before you rise and leave your body behind
to lie in peace in its last bed.

Light began everything…
darkness will always exist –
it must according to divine will…
finding an equilibrium with all things
and with all people is all about living…
just as god is in the details of everything,
so is the devil.

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My Poem ‘I live for him’

Mark Hastings Poetry , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Our life has a meaning…
we live for a reason…
nothing can stop us
from fulfilling our destiny –
not even dying…
we should never stop hoping
and believing in the power
of god and heaven –
and there is no better example,
nor a more shining star
of a blessed and saved angel,
that I have ever heard of
than that of the story
of Isabella “Izzie” Cochran…

Izzie died, Izzie went to heaven –
Izzie was with Jesus the entire time,
and she was returned to life
and to the arms of her loving family,
because it was not her time
to live among the angels
and stay in the presence of the divine,
because she has a life-long purpose
to spread the word of the one
who watches over all of us,
and to be a reason for others
to believe in miracles.

Blessings can come as profound surprises…
prophecies can be played out
when you least expect them to be…
one person can bring together a world divided…
it is amazing who you can see
when you look into infinity
and a single star guides you
to the place and to the person
where and with whom you are meant to be.

There is only so much that can be written…
there is only so much that can be shared…
there is only so much that can be understood
about our reason to be here
on Earth as a child of heaven…
there is only so much in life that we can all take –
however, as the bible teaches us,
we are all only given that which we are able to bear.

It is incredibly inspiring,
it is spiritually reinvigorating,
it is a life-redefining reminder
to never stop believing,
it is beyond imagining
to have been given a gift
and to know with all your heart
that the love that binds
each and every-one throughout creation
is the reason why children are born,
why the world keeps turning,
why we are given what we are given,
and why the beautiful gift
who is Izabella “Izzie” Cochran
died and was brought back to life…
because her purpose –
that which Jesus told her
when she saw him
next to a white horse in heaven –
was to live and to live for him.

My Poem ‘The Purple Flame’

Mark Hastings Poetry , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

The Purple flame, the purple prince,
the purple reign, the purple spirit,
the purple light, the purple love,
the purple sight, the purple angel
who now flies free like a dove…
the purple revolutionary,
the soul, the purple poet, the purple poetry,
the purple energy flow,
the purple art, the purple artist,
the purple icon, the purple tempest…
we are all going to be basking in your glow
today and for all of the days of tomorrow…
I am imagining you right now
racing down a highway in heaven
with David Bowie and John Lennon
in a little red Corvette
against the backdrop of a purple sunset,
wearing a raspberry-coloured beret,
on your way to a place
where there is an ocean of inspiration
that is constantly being remade
by the diamond and pearl-like
droplets of purple rain.

You have left us,
but you are still here…
you have blessed us,
and we will remember you
every second that we hear
your transcendent music,
as we shed a tear…
you may be far away now,
but your message of love
still echoes all around the world…
you must be looking back at us now
through the clouds
and smiling to yourself
because you know that the magical gift of music
that you were a master of
is one of the universe’s must powerful cures.

The purple bird…
the purple fire…
the purple star…
the purple flower…
the purple dust…
the purple pulse that will always
flow back and forth through our veins
from our feet to our brains…
the purple night…
the purple day…
the purple life that we will always cherish
and we will always be in-awe of…
of the one of a kind prince of the purple flame.

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My Poem ‘When the sun shines I smile’

Mark Hastings Poetry , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

When the sun shines
I smile, because I know that the light
that I embrace and I am energized by
was sent by you…
when the sun rises
I know that it wont be long
until I see your beautiful face come into view…
when the sun burns in the sky
I feel the part of you inside me
reaching out for the part of me inside you…
when the sun lights-up the world around me
my heart leaps out of my chest
and takes my soul with it
so that I may see you in your dreams,
and we may have a late-night/early-morning
secret rendezvous.

No moments could ever compare
to the times that we spend together –
we both have waited
and we are still waiting for each other,
but there has been and there always will be
a divine-will drawing us and holding us together;
I now know why for my entire life
I have been following a path of fallen white feathers…
each and every-one has been leading me
in one direction: to you,
and no matter what you say
I know that your secret-identity
is that you are an angel of heaven.

Some things in life we choose,
and some things in life are planned;
some days we might want to try
an out-of-the-ordinary choice of transport,
but when it comes to where you are going,
to whom, and why, then we can all rest-assured
that whomever we are meant to be with
will always be there and waiting for us
when we land.

Anything that has repercussions…
anything that when dropped into an ocean
or into a pool of water
creates ripple-effects…
anything that creates a momentary
life-changing interruption…
anything that seizes and overcomes your senses…
anything that beats and does not stop beating
is only comparable in its importance
to that of the love and the heart of an angel…
I love and I am loved by an angel,
and to me there is nothing and no-one on Earth
who could ever be more perfect.

The sun is still shining,
and I am still smiling;
angels walk and fly among us –
they want us to believe in them,
just as they believe in us;
when the sun shines on you,
and you cast a shadow like that of a sun-dial,
stare into the light and then close your eyes quickly –
and the face which you see flashing before you eyes
will be the object of your heart’s desire,
and at that moment imagine like I do
that you are with your angel
who always makes you smile.

My Poem ‘The Ten Thousand’

Mark Hastings Poetry , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Every birth is a miracle…
every child is an angel…
every baby is beautiful…
every newborn is wonderful,
and it is every parents responsibility
to provide and to give without question
the love and the support that their children
need more than anything else in the entire world.

Every child is born to the parents
whom they are born to for a reason…
some parents don’t even plan to be parents –
however, I am sure that not even
Mary and Joseph knew how to be the best parents
to the young Jesus,
but they did the best that they could,
and it is not every day
that you are chosen to be
the adoptive parents of God’s son
through immaculate conception.

In my opinion, every parent of every child
is the beginning, but not the end…
in my opinion, the best parents
care so much for their children
and their well-being,
and they show their love for their children naturally –
while others try too-hard
and in the end they have to pretend.

We know from the Bible
where Jesus was born and to whom…
we know where Jesus died
and where he rose to heaven…
we know that Jesus died
for each and every one of us,
but no-one could ever know
what exactly Jesus thought about
why he was on Earth when he was a child –
however, when he saw the signs
of what was about to come
and what he had to do,
I am sure that he knew…
we know that Jesus was divine,
but he too was mortal
and could not have left this life
in any other way than like a human.

Some couples pray for the gift of a child…
some people become parents naturally
and biologically, and some are chosen
to be the guardians and the protectors
of a child by the hand of destiny and fate…
some couples’ journey to parenthood
can be long and hard,
but unbelievably worth-while…
some people become a parent early
and some become parents late…
some couples only choose their child’s name
after they have been born,
while some have had the same names picked out
for months before they even knew the sex of their baby…
some parents watch their children grow
and become amazing individuals
of whom they could not be more proud…
some couples know what it means
to have been born into a one-of-a-kind family…
some parents unfortunately out-live their children
and even have to watch as their child
breathes their last breath –
and it is to them that Angels come
to help them through the heart-break that they feel,
because to the ears of the divine
the sound of even a single falling tear of a parent
is as loud as that of ten thousand.

My Poem ‘Walking the line’

Mark Hastings Poetry , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Literally, figuratively,
physically, emotionally,
I have been walking a line
or two my entire life…
just like Johnny Cash,
near the infamous Nickajack cave
in Tennessee,
I walked the tracks of a railroad-line –
and I can honestly say
that on the beautiful morning in February,
while I was walking alongside the Tennessee river
with the love of my life
and my adoptive family,
I too had what could be called
a “spiritual experience”:
the sky was blue,
the light was golden,
and I felt more alive than I had ever felt –
I was renewed, and I did not even for a second
think to look back over my shoulder,
because all that mattered
were the moments of perfection
that I was living out in nature
and under the life-giving and incredible sun.

Walking any kind of a line
is always when and where
something life-changing begins;
walking down a road that you don’t know
is how you can discover
and learn to embrace something unknown
and completely different;
walking, and not rushing,
is how to savor the beautiful
and the miraculous things about life
that speedsters sometimes miss
because they travel at the speed of lightning;
walking has always been a passion of mine –
and I swear that you haven’t lived
until you have stopped and heard
the breathtaking sound
of the Earth when it sings.

Every day people walk the line of life and death;
every day people walk the line of light and dark;
every day people walk right and left;
every day people walk to live,
and to live they have to walk far;
every day people walk
even though every step may feel like mile;
every day people walk through all weathers;
every day people walk through fire
and must overcome a torrent of trials;
every day people walk and repent
so that one day they can be
welcomed through the gates of heaven.

No matter what demons lie in your past,
you have got to keep walking
even though there may be times
when you don’t feel fine;
no matter what baggage you carry
that you think you can’t let go of,
sometimes you have got to learn
to let go of what you don’t need anymore,
and don’t look too longingly
at the light of the past
because before too long it may make you blind;
you haven’t lived in this life
if you haven’t at some point or another
been asked to pick a side;
there is no one alive
who hasn’t had to walk away from something
so that they to walk towards something –
no matter what, no matter the time,
everybody in their life
has got to walk the line.

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My Poem ‘I am’

Mark Hastings Poetry , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Words are powerful;
song and prayer elevate the words
from a book and give them new life;
words are what makes something
more amazing and more magical;
when spoken from the heart
and with a true explosion
of passion and feeling
words and language become spirit and light –
they become energy,
and even on a cloudy day
can make the world shiny and bright.

The divine is always listening;
there are angels in every place on Earth
constantly waiting;
the creator of all is always creating;
there is a voice that is constantly speaking.

None of us is every truly alone;
the one true believer walks among us
and does not rule in heaven
on top of a throne;
some people in need find asking for help
the hardest thing in the entire world;
every day the barriers and the borders
of both heaven and hell become blurred
with those that they share
with our world here on Earth.

When the light of creation first shone
upon the face of the Earth
that for the longest time
had been veiled in shadow…
when God gave humanity their chance
to be fruitful in the universe’ after-glow…
when the first words were spoken
and their meaning and their message
grew and spread like the vines of a rain-forest…
when the almighty blessed everyone
with the gift of choice…
everything and everybody became the variables,
the equations, the questions,
as well as the answers,
to the most epic of tests.

I believe that when the universe sparked into being,
when the first stars were born,
when the first galaxies were formed,
when the first planets gave rise
to the first intelligent minds
and to the first open eyes
who were able to see and understand
what language is and what some words truly mean…
with that birth of consciousness
followed something…
and every day, on every planet,
the lord of heaven tells us all in our own way
that even though they are the creator
and the way of all,
each of us are meant to find
our own way in our own time,
and no matter what
know how lucky we are
to have been given the life that we know –
and through Him, I know that I am.

My Poem ‘The Angel’s Wings’

Mark Hastings Poetry , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

‘Where do you keep your wings?’
Asked the Blessed to the Angel;
‘I don’t see any wings on your back?’

‘Well, I keep mine in my wallet,
or sometimes folded up in my back-pack –
but not all angel’s have wings,
as a matter of fact:
some are artists, some are teachers,
some are hair-stylists, some are preachers,’
said the Angel with a smile
as they sat down next to the Blessed
on the park bench.

‘Oh, really?’ Replied the Blessed with a grin,
as they slowly opened the fingers of their hands
from how they had been clenched.

‘Really!’ Replied the Angel
as they looked at the Blessed
and could see that they were now feeling
and appearing as if they now were more relaxed.
A few minutes before, however,
the Blessed had collapsed to the ground
as if they had suffered a heart-attack.

‘Why don’t angel’s just walk around
with their wings on-show?’
Asked the Blessed, ‘Or turn on the light
above their head to tell everybody who they are?
Why don’t they illuminate their halo?’

‘Because, in this day-and-age,
if they did that then everyone would want a ‘selfie’
with them, wouldn’t they?’ Said the angel with a smile
and a chuckled laugh.
‘Most Angel’s keep a low-profile until they are needed.
That didn’t used to be the case a long time ago,
a couple of thousand years ago in the past.
Most of us Angel’s only truly stretch out our wings
when we are trying to get them dry
after we have taken a bath.’

‘Angel’s take baths?’ Asked the Blessed,
‘why don’t you just go for a fly?
I’m sure that a quick flap
would get in no time get them dry?’

‘Good point!’ Replied the Angel
with a sparkle in their eyes;
‘thing is though, the feathers of our wings
‘poof-up’ so badly after they get wet –
or maybe that could just be mine?’

‘Wow!’ Exclaimed the Blessed with a laugh,
‘I had no idea that angel’s could be so funny?’

‘You would be amazed at how many Angel’s
were also comedians when they are on Earth.
Me? I learned all my best one-liners
from Bill Murray on the set of Groundhog Day!
You know, considering that it is a movie
about a man repeating himself over-and-over again,
until he discovers that being a selfless person
is the only way break the endless-cycle,
it wasn’t as boring as you may think in any way.’

‘That is one of my favourite films, actually!
I must have seen it a million times.’

‘Mine too!’ Said the Angel;
‘that film is a classic!
And it is also a wonderful
modern-day parable, in my opinion.
To me, like all great art,
it is one of a kind.’

‘I feel so much better now!’ Said the Blessed.
‘I still can’t remember a thing
about what happened,
but thanks again for helping me!’

‘My pleasure!’ Replied the Angel
as he stood up from his seat
and helped steady the Blessed to their feet.

‘I better be going now.
Thank you so much!
You are my hero! You are my angel!’
Said the Blessed with a smile
before walking away, and looking around
at the beauty of their surroundings,
and taking in every chirp and tweet
of the birds that they heard singing.

And as the Angel watched the Blessed walk away,
they sat down again on the bench,
they crossed their legs,
they closed their eyes,
and they smiled…
and as the sun shone brightly on them
they unfurled their hidden wings of pure-white –
and then with the grace of God
they returned to heaven
in a flash of golden sunlight.

My Poem ‘Her Magical Powers’

Mark Hastings Poetry , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

I was listening to Johnny Cash,
“The Man in Black”,
when a shiver of cold ran down my back;
it was night time and the stars were out,
and I had no idea what the shiver was about –
but as I looked out my window
and I saw the streak of a shooting star
in the sky above;
I make a wish to the one I love,
and I saw her face as clear as day –
and as soon as I did a song began to play;
and as I listened I heard a voice:
three words spoken with no background noise,
and I heard everything
that I have ever wanted to hear…
I closed my eyes, as I shed a tear,
and into the air I said a prayer
to the one I love
that for her I would always be there;
I said to her that I loved her too,
I heard her say my name and my eyes flashed blue,
and all I wanted was to have her near –
so I let go of all my fear…
and I wrote a poem for her to read,
one that would tell her
that she is the only one that I need –
and I typed it up with my own two hands,
and I sent it to her with my heart
beating as if I were in the middle of a dance;
I waiting out of breath for a whole two seconds,
and then my love replied to the message
in which I had beckoned:
she said that she always wanted us to be together…
I jumped for joy and I told her that she was my heaven!
And later that night, I went to sleep,
I dreamed that I was with the woman
who I wanted to keep:
we hugged and kissed,
we laughed and promised;
and the next morning when I woke up
I picked up the phone
and I called my love…
I told her that she was my world,
that no matter what happens
I would do anything for her;
and then we spoke for hours upon hours,
until I had to say goodnight to her…
and I told her again that I loved her
and that I always and forever wanted to be
under the spell of her magic powers.

My Poem ‘GA 30741’

Mark Hastings Poetry , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Upon first awakening, all is dark
while the air is still warm;
when drifting off to sleep
during the summer-time
is when the lightning bugs glow
in the twilight as they swarm;
when the sun is shining
and the blue sky comes alive,
when you can sit back and take your ease
somewhere peaceful and special,
you feel the most lucky to be where you are,
having the time of your life.

When you see something everyday,
when you live somewhere all your life,
you can easily take something
or somewhere for granted,
when you are happy and content,
the minutes and the hours
can seem to fly away –
however, just as moments come
and they go like a flash of light,
when we all learn to harness
the energy and the feeling of our surroundings
it is then that we can make moments
and memories last forever,
and just like our genetic memory
be forever imprinted.

I have Georgia on my mind;
I have Tennessee in my heart;
I have a pocket of dollars and dimes;
I have the light of an American angel
shining on me like a star;
I have the accents and the voices
that I know so well
echoing through my consciousness
like a choir singing in a church;
I have the distant sight of Lookout Mountain
still fascinating me from afar.

I have walked over old battlefields,
and paid my respects to the lost
at memorials erected to remember the fallen –
those who gave their lives
to preserve the right of everyone
to enjoy the gift of true freedom.

The United States of America
is one country made up of fifty
wonderfully diverse states;
the heart of every American
beats proud and strong;
the United States of America
is a symbol of hope and prosperity
in so many ways;
every state of America
is a piece of an epic
and breathtaking unfinished puzzle –
and, to me, the states of Georgia and Tennessee
symbolize what makes
the United States of America truly great,
and there isn’t a minute that goes by
when I do not think of my home in 30741.

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