Stories –

STORIES –
single-red-rose-3by: Aliana Alani ©2018

 

You can love them or hate them.
Laugh till you cry or cry till you sob.

You can bravely follow page by page,
Or sneak peek to the end, to be sure to be sure.

You can raise their swords of truth as though they were your own,
Or shake your head at the sheer folly of where they appear to go.

Through them – you can be a swashbuckler, a Cinderella, an angel, or a spy.
You can dust off your dancing shoes,
Or race that Formula One car to the finish.
In some, you can even fly.

And if they are good enough – if they are well told –
They will, at some point, capture your heart.
From that moment on, for however long a time,
You will believe them to be your own.

lotus flower

For Philip Seymour Hoffman – in memory & in gratitude

For sharing his amazing talent and beauty with us all … for daring to always push the envelop as an actor … and for being an inspiration to the world of story – THANK YOU.philip seymour hoffman 3 - Copy

This poem comes to mind – for his family, for his friends, and for those of us who never knew him personally but somehow feel the loss …

It is by Mary E Faye and it is called:     I DID NOT DIE

Do not stand at my grave and forever weep.

I am not there; I do not sleep.

I am a thousand winds that blow.

I am the diamond glints on snow.

I am the sunlight on ripened grain.

I am the gentle autumn’s rain.

When you awaken in the morning’s hush

I am the swift uplifting rush

Of quiet birds in circled flight.

I am the soft stars that shine at night.

Do not stand at my grave and forever cry.

I am not there. I did not die.

Bless your heart, Philip Seymour Hoffman. We are richer because you were here.