Tag Archives: being honest with Self

The Dream Effect

Poetry, like dreams, stem from some truth –

a feeling, a thought, a perspective, an experience.

I cannot tell if my dream stemmed from a poem, 

or if this poem stemmed from a dream.

But it bloomed…and I hope your being

blooms, too.

Love, T




I had the most beautiful dream

the other night.

It was a dream that stemmed from,

and exuberated, LOVE.

And I mean LOVE.

Pure and true.

And real! So very real!


The love of my life

was in my dream

and he was happy.

I mean HAPPY.

His smile, warm and contagious,

lighting up his face in a way

I always wanted to remember him by.

He was healthy too.

Healthy and happy.

Is there a better combination of state,

to have one BE,

in life?

I don’t know if there is

anything much better than that.


It was a sight to see…

He was the way you would wish

someone you love

TO BE, but really,

to feel.

He was always beautiful,

to me,

but in this dream,

he was shinning.


It felt amazing

to see him in that



And it wasn’t just he

who was in my dream,

although he stood out

from the rest.

It was a home,

full of happy people.

My home.

My family.



It was an exhilarating dream.

It lifted me to a high that spilled

over into my


Not because it gave me hope

that my love and I will


one day.

But because my love

was healthy and happy.

I couldn’t wish him

anything other than

health and happiness…


I hope my dream

turns into his reality,

into YOUR reality,

into YOUR love’s reality…

health and happiness,

from my dream,

to your being.







Let go.





Photo © T.Nikic 2014

Photo and edit © T.Nikic 2014

The Guitar Player

It’s easy to become attached to feelings, a connection, the beauty of someone’s heart.

Just be mindful that there is more to it…and you deserve EVERYTHING.



Like a bee to a flower

I was captivated by his colour

And no it wasn’t the colour of his skin

Which I actually didn’t see

But the colour of his soul

Which made me think that

There was something more to him

Than those guitar strings he pressed, stroked and flicked,

With those beautiful hands of his,

More to him than the songs he sang

Along with his three-man mariachi band

Maybe it was in his smile

Which he so willingly shared with me

Or in those beautiful black eyes

That looked at me like they saw more

Than just the green, their colour,

But all that I hid behind them

From those I didn’t want to see

The true depths of me…

When our eyes met,

I felt like our souls spoke to each other

And it didn’t matter that we didn’t speak

Each other’s mother tongues.

All that was important to each of us was understood

In those moments our eyes eagerly locked…

Except that I’d always look away because

His gaze caused my face

To become a different shade…

Brighter and much hotter than a stranger,

I thought,

Should ever induce

As a reaction to him.

He made me blush even when he wasn’t looking

I’d feel his presence in the room

Before my eyes took notice.

I’d feel his aura the same way

One sees a rainbow for the first time –

It makes the world stop for a moment

As you take in its wonder –

You simply felt lifted.

Every time he was near

My heart would skip a few beats

And my breathing was unnecessary

Because being around him

Sustained the life in ME.

I remember the unexpected wave

He sent in my direction,

So that his band-mates wouldn’t see,

He waited to enter the building last,

As I sat outside and sipped my tea,

He smiled from a distance and just

Waved at me.

Without even thinking

That he was waving at another lady,

I waved back,

And he smiled and waved just a little longer

Than he had to…

A little signal just to say

“Hey, I see you…I feel you…our souls

have been forever embraced.”

The following day,

He came over to our table and said:

“Good evening Beauty,

May I sing you a song tonight?”

With cheeks splashed with crimson

I politely declined,

But it’s as if he knew I would

He said to his comrades,

“A song for a beautiful lady!”

And he sang to me.

I felt my heart stop

And my cheeks flush

And my stomach host a band of butterflies

But I couldn’t turn around to look at him…

Because I knew I’d see what I didn’t want

To stare back at me –

His beautiful wedding ring.

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