transformation

My Poem “The Crow”

Mark Hastings Poetry , , , , , , , , , , , , , , 
When I walked out of my house this morning
I immediately found myself
staring into the dark eyes of a crow -
it was as if the crow knew something
about me and about what was going
to happen to me that I did not know...
I stared at the crow, as they stared back at me,
and then when I started walking towards
them they let me get perhaps two feet
before they decided to flap their wings
and take flight as quietly, as quickly,
and as effortlessly as could be...
I didn't think anything else of the crow
until just now, as a matter of fact,
as I wonder how long it will take
before I once again feel whole again,
and just like the old me;
however, I know that it is too late
for some things and that there are some things
that will forever remain in the past...
we are all a product of the choices that we have made
and the road that we walk upon
that is built upon our hopes, our dreams,
as well as our fears and our actions
that we can't take back...
when I woke up this morning
I knew that I had something waiting for me -
something that I knew would leave a scar
upon me that only I will wear
and that only I would know...
when I woke up this morning
I was given a message meant only for me
that when I think about it now
was as clear as clear could be -
and the messenger of this message
was who was waiting for me
outside my house this morning:
none other than the black bird
that is smarter than you could know,
and symbolically considered to be
the herald of change, transition,
transformation and new beginnings
that is The Crow.
Advertisement

Happy Birthday to “The Wolf In Me”

Mark Hastings books, life, me, Poetry, Short-story , , , , , , , , , ,

It’s been four years since my first novel “The Wolf In Me” was published! Wow! I can’t believe how time moves so fast! “The Wolf In Me” was my first book to feature my character Olivia Hunter, which I subsequently wrote a sequel to and got published via my great publisher Zeloo Media, in 2019 called “The Wolf In You”.

I consider both “The Wolf In Me” and “The Wolf In You” as Volume One and Volume Two in the extraordinary and supernatural story of Olivia Hunter and I still love and look back fondly on the journey of discovery that I took with the character of Olivia Hunter in both of those books.

Happy Birthday to “The Wolf In Me”! 😊🐺📖📚✒📝

My Poem “The Wolf Moon”

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

As the Wolf Moon rose in the East
and immediately filled the dark night-sky –
just like a werewolf from a horror movie –
as soon as I looked up to the moonlight
I found myself unable to fight, nor deny,
that which I was feeling in that moment:
this instinctive urge
to howl like a wild animal
and let go of who I was, what I was,
where I was, and run off
into the woods and feel
the spirit that I knew was within me
drive me to a moment of transformation
from which there might be no coming back…
I could already perceive my senses
start to become more heightened,
and I swore that I could feel the sensation
of excess hair starting to grow upon my back;
however, then, in the same instant
that I was feeling almost overwhelmed
by my uncontrollable thoughts,
emotions, and racing heart,
as if planned from the start,
I heard in the distance the sound
of a Wolf’s howl and I knew immediately
that this cold January night was when
a fellow creature of the twilight
was calling out to anyone or anything
that had within them the heart,
the spirit, and the strength
that only a Wolf feels and knows
that they must express,
because of the explosion
of undeniable energy within them
that surges below their skin –
and that was what I felt
when the fuse inside me
was immediately ignited
by the sight of the glorious Wolf Moon.

My Poem “Transformative”

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

They say that how you end one year
you will begin the next year in the same way?
However, in this life, though we may have
no control over the when and the where
we enter and exit this world,
what we can control is what we decide to do
and when we decide to do it, and with whom…
Life is too short to waste…
Life is better when shared with a soulmate…
Time waits for no-one…
People are there one minute,
and the next they are gone…
Angels exist, demons do too…
Heaven is a real place,
Hell is where you live
when you stop doing what you love to do…
You can begin something again any time you want…
You can create anything your mind can imagine…
You can go anywhere you want –
never let anyone tell you that you can’t…
If you think of every day as if it were
the next level of a game then one day
you can reach the end of the story
you are a part of and win…
Patience is a necessary component
in anybody’s quest to achieving anything…
Planning and practice can sometimes be beneficial –
however, following a blueprint to the nth degree
can sometimes hold you back from exploring
the magic that comes from spontaneity
and focusing on the rhythm of your own breathing…
Sometimes in life you have got to be inventive…
Sometimes in life you have got to be passive…
Sometimes in life you have got to dig deep
and give all that you have got to give…
In life you have got to live and embrace
the moments of living in order to experience
a restorative energy that never ceases
to be transformative.

My Poem “Thaw”

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

The air is cold…
There is ice all around…
I am steeping out,
I am breaking the mould…
I refuse to stay in one place
and forever remain gravity bound…
I will not allow fear to take hold…
I will put one foot in front of the other
and walk towards my destiny
that has been foretold…
Soon the ice will thaw
and again I will see the path
upon which I am fated to walk…
There is no way of turning back,
there is no time for talk…
The essence of time is to be fleeting…
The reason of memory
is in order to be reminded of life’s meaning…
I do not fear the future,
nor do I fear this shining icy floor…
One step at a time,
I will keeping going
and walk within the light of the sun
as it slowly but surely transforms
and returns all islands of ice
back into the air from whence they came
in one almighty thaw.

My Poem ‘Head-phones to the soul’

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

On a long journey somewhere,
or while simply sitting on your bed…
on a road-trip to another country
or to another state…
while looking at and listening live
to a band on a stage…
or while listening alone
as you walk through nature…
music is the beginning, the end,
and the giant leap to an amazing new adventure.

Portals to new worlds can be psychological,
emotional, visual, and audible…
some doors only require
your undivided-attention to open them…
some worlds can be both big and small…
just as to see some things clearly
you need to look at them through the right lens,
to hear something life-changing
you need the right means of translation
in order to listen.

Music means more to people than even they may know;
music is capable of stimulating transformation
in people in more ways than can ever be conceived;
music was born at the beginning of everything,
and each and every one of us
has been dancing and listening
to that universal soundtrack all our lives,
and as long as life continues to exist
we will be living in the resonance
of that timeless cosmic echo;
music, like any kind of magic,
needs to be witnessed and heard to be believed.

Music is universal,
but it is also personal;
singers sing,
but they also need to hear;
music has been changing and influencing lives
in ways that almost supersede
the natural and the biological;
when musicians play their voice can be heard
by those light-years away, as well as near.

A song can be like a seed
that explodes to life in your mind
and blossoms like a tree in spring;
a song can be of a time,
or timeless and forever
and never get old;
a song can be simply a way
for somebody to tell the one they love ‘I love you’,
and the one who made it
may never truly know how much happiness
to other people it will never stop bringing;
a song can be a life-line and a life-saver,
and when heard at a particular time
a song or a piece of music
can override all of your senses,
as if the instruments
that you are listening to them with
are head-phones to a divine soul.

Head-phones to the soul

My Poem ‘El Transformador’

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

You haven’t lived,
in my opinion,
until you have seen and heard
the movie ‘Transformers’
dubbed in Spanish;
you haven’t lived
until you have traveled
4000 miles to be with
the one whom every day
makes real all that
you have ever wished;
you haven’t seen
true natural-beauty
until you have seen
the Great Smoky Mountains up-close
and you have breathed in
the clear fresh-air
that is in abundance;
you haven’t seen an angel,
in my opinion,
until you have laid your eyes upon
the woman who I adore and love –
because on a scale of perfection
there is no one who looks
and shines with as much
breathtaking and heavenly magnificence.

You haven’t lived
until you have walked the tracks of a rail-road,
under a perfectly-unbroken blue-sky,
that runs alongside the Nickajack Lake in Tennessee;
you haven’t known true-love, in my opinion,
until you have been loved in every way imaginable,
as much as I love Melissa,
as much as Melissa loves me;
you haven’t heard the heart-beat of life
until you have reached out and felt
the source of divine joy and happiness
that resides in the south of North America;
you haven’t heard the voice of your own soul
until you have been kissed and told
“I love you” by the light of your life
who is to you your life-defining shining-star.

You haven’t been given
a sign of the existence of God, in my opinion,
until you have taken a journey with your best-friend
and you have watched the book of life open up
and make sense of every-thing
that you have ever pondered,
and you find out that your best-friend
and your soulmate was put on Earth
to be with you forever;
you haven’t arrived at the true start
of your destined-path
until someone comes into your life
and without even having to try
reveals the true you
that you may at times keep under-cover.

You haven’t known a place of true-salvation,
in my opinion, until you have been
where I have been, and until you have heard
the song of your heart and spirit being performed;
you haven’t felt like
you have been to the moon and back
until you are alone with your one-and-only,
and every second feels like a life-time,
and every moment that you touch and are touched
you feel blessed and transformed.

20160211_091027

My Poem ‘Science’

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

As one cover closes,
another cover opens;
as one world freezes,
another continues to never know
the feeling of what it is like to be frozen;
as one story ends,
another adventure begins;
as a stranger becomes a friend,
another friendly acquaintance
is off to see something new
that they will declare when they see you next
that they had never seen such a thing before, or since;
as one road changes,
another connects with the one before
but simply with a change of name;
as one fire rages,
another dies until it is no more
than the after-glow of an extinguished flame.

Starts, and finishes;
beginnings, and ends;
birth, and death;
life’s phases of change and transformation;
thoughts, and wishes;
fresh air, breathing, cleansing;
right, or left;
chaos, order, belief, science;
everything in balance,
and happening for a reason,
like the variable in a perfect equation.

When things recur in nature;
when things are born, twinned with another
instead of singularly and alone;
when the present is also the past and the future,
that is when we all should take notice
with all our senses and instincts –
because it is then that we realize
that it is always better to be a designer
of your own life and style,
instead of simply being the same as someone else
and acting like a clone.

The seasons of Earth,
the names that we have given
the phases of our planet,
are never the same from one year to the next:
some winters are mild,
some winters are unbelievably harsh,
some summers are as golden as those
we always remember having when we were a child,
some summers are like being bitten hard
by a tyrannosaurus rex.
The sun continues to burn, and shine;
the water level of our rivers and lakes rise
and they fall, unexpectedly;
life is what it is,
and can never knowingly be kind, or unkind;
things happen again and again, invariably,
wonderfully, and sometimes surprisingly poetically.

Life is a continuous moment,
that our time existing in which
could be balanced on the tip of a needle;
our voices are but a whisper
in the cosmos of perfect silence,
and it is life’s precious finality
that empowers me the most,
and inspires me to the deepest of depths
and to the greatest of heights –
because once our lives are lived to their entirety,
we expire and then begin again anew,
and with another life to live and slowly reveal –
and that is the great journey,
and that is the great discovery of life,
of the universe, and the answer that follows
the equality sign posed eternally
from time in memorial by a meaning of life,
that is both a religion to believe in,
as well as the refined tried and tested
practice of a science.