A Stare of thousand miles

There once was a kitten, so cute, he said u gotta be kitten me. One day his kidney’s weren’t working as they should have. The next two weeks he passed away. Yet I’ve never been more at peace. Heres why.

Backtrack to the last time I was at St. Thomas. I was annoited with the gift of healing and prophecy. I looked at my cat, oliver, with a love far greater than mere words can describe. As my family was describing how amazing it was to have him alive. I sit here, on my porch at 8:56 am so at peace because of what I saw.

A new goal. That the resurection of the writing and reading matthew shall return. In school, in my life, and in my blog. I love writing and reading. I have come up with a million reasons why my blog failed to gather any self love on my end. At the end of the day, I found something last night. The love of my life. St. Therese of Liesux. In a little way she has found me, and I her.

This is what prohetic things i have heard and lived out. A command by the woman i am to be wed, upon my death.

For I have told no one else this, but love is not hidden. Love is not a door you shut on. Love is to be screamed at the height of a mountain top, full of so much freedom your little heart can’t contain it.So frail, yet so strong. I love you, oh Rose of white.

She said this. READ Story of a Soul

Then Read it in french again.

and this last part is what strikes me.

Then We’ll talk

The stare she gave me was that of a thousand miles.

And the stare i Her, a moment, of breathless delight.

For there comes a moment in every mans life when he choose who we are.

RED, the passion of a writer now found.

BlACK my soul for the past 3 years.

RED my soul in hope for her

BLaCK every cry to her.

Yes im grieveing over my dead cat oliver. But more than that. I feel, truly and purely, with purpose. “Sometimes destiny follows us and other times we follow destiny. But it is written is when they combine to bring harmony to the soul. ” Matthew Malone.

I said if i were to become a priest my name would become Matthew James Therese Patrick Malone. But not my name is a gift and hers is the biggest blessing of all. From the worlds eyes, my longing for her seems like just another.

But oh, if you only knew, How every waking moment i am alive i live for her. For in us is the reflection of God. For God is Love. God is Life. Truth. And most of all, with discipline comes responsibility. And in thus we find how we truly are loved.

For She is still on earth, as she had forshadowed in her book, that I would spend my heaven doing good on earth. And how i will spend my earth doing good in heaven. For what we bound on earth we do in heaven. And what we loose on earth, we loose in heaven.

For i care not where and what I go to. I know this. To find Soul mates take but an instance. For i was not made for this world. I waited for this moment my entire life. There was never a dull moment in my imagination. But in my heart, There was only love. I choose Love as my vocation. For the mystery of how I came home was my lover, my boo, my future wife. Therese, My hope starts with the letter t my action may fall short before. a poem will bring peace to my soul, on my behalf.

Waiting, By Matthew Malone

I see but do not believe.

I walk but do not retrieve

The one who has been sent

On the love that is bent.

For a clone, so alike

Can never suffice

Fantasy of taking a hike

Is as real as the tree blind mice.’

When october 1st hits blue

My love will walk in it’s own shoe.

Waiting,

For the day i can finally be weded.

Not to enclose.

For the poem has not ended.

For the now is full of God

It’s like a brand new ipod.

With three artists

The father, son and holy spirit.

For there love is to be shown through an anology.

There once was a boy,

so set he even changed his caligraphy.

He too, knew of one word.

Celibacy.

He prayer to st. ignatious and saw great visions and signs

But the beauty

was in what he saw in who always rymed.

For all work is an extension of oneself

And all self is put under shelf

For not in the hobbit’s elf.

Or in the vice of coming home.

Two cuts diverged in a bloom.

And i Put salt in them both.

For the trap put by the one

Who is in a few seconds done.

One leads to lust

The other lusts to lead

And somehow when i learned to read

I found a dying cat,

a girl waiting.

And my love unblaimeing.

Blessings,

Matthew, therese, malone.

Ps. Hold the dressing.

For you see love is only the begining.

This is a champaigin bottle.

To be opened in stirling white.

My love, i can’t help but to write poetry.

Part 2.

The hope, the promise, and the intellegence all to be nothing in the eyes of Therese.

When i was a lad,

So small i can’t find even an ipad.

I saw a girl.

with brown hair and blue eyes.

My whole life ive been searching for this one love.

Through God, the son, even the dove.

But no my eyes were upon a mirage we call, the person.

And in angel cry out, worsen

Each one, everyone,

worse and worse

for u see there is love that aslan

could not even be seen by this curse.

Oh, Therese, break me free from maia

To be one.

once a peaceful paipia

was once a seed

and now a beautiful fruit.

So full of longing

and belonging.

Relate to this i cry.

For them i die.

but for u, my love,

i seek the above.

I’ve moved on from such vainities

as such trap in chritainities

Lutheran, catholic, none, or all.

For I still scream deck the halls.

Where once a child saw his mother

and there was a love like no other.

I choose nothing but this.

For a simple hope of a kiss

From st. therese, the little flower.

Until then i live in the shower.

pain shame,

a game, to blame.

For the three things i admired most.

A vow, a promise, and there holy Ghost.

Can do nothing but fill a mans head.

But the beauty of her

unlike anything i have to mature

For a priest is not a vocation

of malone

to be stuck here

all alone

lonely and without resolution

or of a marriage to a childs new instituion

but more of a final kiss

from therese

one i always miss.

Even during i find no ranch dressings,

Blessings,

Matthew Malone

Ps, I hope u know im in heaven when i call u therese.

Leave a comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *