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  • Writer's pictureCamp Goldston Publishing, LLC

A Tale Of Two Poems

My Courageous Companion

My courageous companion

How mistaken you are for a fool

When you speak of the beauty of rain

When you trust when there is no proof

When you are willing to lose while the game is to win

When you serve while others ask

When you apologize for orphaned mistakes

When you stay while others would leave

When you say grace when there is lack

When you unfold while a shining sword strikes

When you sense the love-thirst in the embrace of a stranger

And give of your self

Over and over and over again

If only

You could see your own magnificent beauty

If only

You could see yourself, through my eyes


My Heart

For you my heart

I want to build a castle

With walls from glass

So that you can see

But not be touched

For you my heart

I want to weave the finest clothes

To fold over your scars

So that not even the wind

Can caress them

For you my heart

I want to paint the finest masks

So that you can show your face

Without being looked into

For you my heart

I want to dig a pond

So that you can lay yourself to rest

In its sweet waters

And be carried, without being a burden

But, for you my heart

I will spend the rest of my days

Tearing down every wall that protects you

Dragging you out of your dungeon

Scratching your surface bare

Ripping the masks from your face

I will expose you

To the burning rays of the sun

I will ignite you

With every spark I can find

Because you my heart

Are too beautiful to not be seen

Too precious to not be experienced

Too courageous not to live

Entrusted to me

This one task

To let you die within yourself

So that you can be born again

Awakened from the dream, that fear is real

Be born again

Into Truth

All is, Love

– Nazmiye Oral

Nazmiye, 44 and mother of two beautiful young women was born into a Turkish family in Holland. At the age of seven she had her first encounter with Source. Whilst playing alone in a field filled with poppies and daisies; the immense, almost dense, silence struck me. I looked up to the sky, saw a bird flying and looked back at myself sitting in the field. I realized that the silence, the air around me was alive. That I wasn’t alone and that I am connected to all that is. And whenever I was hesitant Source has always put me back on my path, till I surrendered. Nazmiye has been writing columns, plays, documentaries and novels with the motto of compassion in her heart.

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