Wednesday, September 28, 2011

Children - Written for foster children everywhere


This was written for the foster children sponsored by San Diego's channel 8 on "Adopt 8"

By Eric Visconti

Hello world,
You are what I see,
Hello world,
Are you ready for me?
I am all alone,
I am on my own.

Hello heart,
I can feel your beat,
Hello heart,
I am on my feet,
The sky’s above,
I am ready for love.

I have fallen from the nest,
Against the world put to the test,
Without someone to show me how to fly,
With a family I would surly try.

Hello friend,
Out on the street,
Hello friend,
Out in the heat,
Are you alone?
Are you just like me?

Hello fun,
Let’s laugh and play,
Hello fun,
Let’s seize the day,
Until someone,
Comes to set me free.

That will be the day life starts,
When my life is in their hearts,
A family’s love to show me the way,
The light of love will not go away.

Hello Mom,
Is it really you?
Hello Mom,
Can this be true?
Am I good enough,
That you want me to be yours?
Hello Dad,
I cannot believe!
Hello Dad,
Look what I received!
The wait is done,
I will be lonely never more.

May all waiting children know,
That prayer’s power never slows,
And one day they will cease to roam,
They will have family they can call home.

Story - How lives become one

I wrote this in amazement of how people inspired by one life, seldom know who inspired that person to begin with.  The inspirer may also never know all that his or her life truly touched.  Our eyes only see so much.  Never give up doing what you know is right.


By Eric Visconti

In the beginning was the word,
And the word was with God,
As words describe all that was,
Describing all that will be,
For now and forever,
Labeling reality we see,
And all of the actions done,
So when words are unspoken,
They exist in physical form,
Flowing through the living,
The essence of life flowing,
As our lives mix together,
Within the story of forever,
Where a life begins and ends,
Ending only in the physical,
As proof of the continuation,
Can be seen in other lives,
I am inspired by a sailor,
Who sailed so long ago,
Sharing adventure in words,
And inspiring me to write,
I pass on his life to others,
That they may feel what I see,
Yet the story has a beginning,
Of which I know nothing,
For the sailor was once inspired,
To fall in love with the sea,
Someone else introduced him,
And he followed his heart,
Making the dream a reality,
Yet the sailor does not know,
How his story continued,
As I read his written word,
Generations after he lived,
Placing the fire of his life,
Into the center of other hearts,
Just as my own inner fire,
Is carried in other hearts,
And I carry their fire,
Safely within my own,
For as we join lives together,
By our own free will,
Effecting the paths of many,
From the effect of one,
Proving we are all part,
Of the great story.

Reflections - Written for the Youth of Norway

This was written originally for some students in San Diego who were reeling from the shock of a father killing his two boys which were there friends.  This effected the lives of a community.  Norway is reeling from the senseless killing of many of their youth in a tragedy that has effected the nation, and shocked the world.  This is for the youth of Norway, no matter what age.  May you take hold of our outstreached hands and be strong in this time, as the human spirit proves that love from God will overcome all evil.


By Eric Visconti

I see them there,
As I come around,
They are smiling to me,
Always contagious,
Very outgoing,
Your burdens lift,
When in their presence,
I feel it every time,
It hits me again,
Later in the day,
Outside in the laughter,
In the crowd I hear them,
I see them from behind,
Approaching with joy,
I want to be there,
Just to laugh with them,
Their images disappear,
Along with their lives,
Taken from them suddenly,
Stolen from our hearts,
They were killed,
With homework undone,
With hearts untouched,
Other lives to be won,
Love to be unleashed,
Felt in other arms,
Their children will never be,
All of this taken from me,
With a shot to my heart,
Yet my mind is reeling,
For why do I see them?
Is the pain too much for me?
Was this more than I could see?
Can I not accept they are gone?
I can’t keep seeing them,
My sanity begs for mercy,
Through the veil of my tears,
Yet why are they smiling,
When I see them now?
Could it be they are well?
Happy in Heaven’s fold,
In a paradise of no pain,
No memory of wrongs done,
If God is really out there,
Then they are with Him,
If they are truly with Him,
Then what am I seeing?
Why would God allow that,
If He truly loves me?
Perhaps it is a sign,
Knowing what is real,
And they are in paradise,
Is a vision I am given,
To allow me to heal,
I know they are not here,
They cannot truly be,
Perhaps it is reflections,
Accounting for what I see,
As an image bends on water,
I cannot see them clearly,
But I can see enough,
Since I can see beauty,
I cannot explain,
Why tragedy strikes,
From freedom of will,
Which he placed in existence,
So that the likes of us,
Have the power to transform,
The power to change lives,
Or bring them to an end,
If he placed such a thing,
As free will in my hand,
I will help others with it,
Those grieving around me,
To show them what I see,
So that they have truth,
Knowing life is still precious,
Our friends our in our hearts,
And as we hold each others hands,
Nothing can destroy love.

Painter - for Enya


For Enya by Eric Visconti

The sounds begin to come,
As colors mix within the air,
Forming patterns which dance,
A delicate waltz upon nothing,
As the colors fall into place,
Creating images without words,
Thoughts replaced with feeling,
Dance of emotion for the heart,
Lifting the soul from Earth,
Into a world that is real,
Unto a land that is timeless,
Where life is a gift received,
And love is a treasure to proclaim,
Conversation occurring in music,
As each of our lives is a song,
A rhythm with a beginning,
Full of words that will never end,
Touched by events in the world,
Yet there is a world untouched,
Which we can not physically feel,
Just as light cannot be felt,
But gives vision to the eyes,
So this world can not be touched,
Yet it gives vision to the heart,
The music that you give us,
Brings us there in power,
That we may return again here,
Bringing strength and inspiration,
To all whom who live and love,
Through the canvas of vision,
Which you are the painter.

Connections - for John Denver

I wrote this commemorating the life of John Denver as he used his gift to connect with others, so that others would use their gifts to connect with those around them.  I hope that my writings honor all that he stood for.


By Eric Visconti

It amazes me always,
How people are inspired,
When the read a book,
Or hear words of a song,
Written by another soul,
Expressing ideas and feeling,
To all whom are around,
And from that expression,
Explore their own thoughts,
Understand their own hearts,
And begin to know themselves,
And all that they can contribute,
To life and to living,
To other hearts around,
So that their own efforts,
Become greatly multiplied,
As the passion that is felt,
Is amplified within each heart,
Every heart beating in unison,
With a common understanding,
As people see each other anew,
While seeing themselves in time,
As their actions and words are woven,
Into the human fabric of emotion,
Woven in the tapestry of creation,
For a simple word or action,
Is what ignites the fire of creation,
Since God spoke it all together,
To the times we live in now,
Where our lives may be marked,
By the things that are remembered,
But our souls will be honored,
As we pass the flame of inspiration,
Into souls who change the world,
Through the power of connections.

Endings - Are they real?

There I was again, sitting at the ranch under the trees after saddling my daughter's horse.  This came to me in the morning.  I did not know I would meet people who lost loved ones that afternoon.  Living life at the edge of imagination means using your free will to become a part of making destiny wonderful.


By Eric Visconti

There is a time and a way,
To all things that exists,
As pieces to vast puzzles,
Which form complete images,
Some being for the present,
All reflect upon the great image,
Made of all that has been,
And all of what is and will be,
The image of all creation,
Contemplated by the wise,
Viewed as the mystery of ages,
Since before time was time,
Yet where is the mystery?
If the image of life is love,
Which is visible in all things,
As when a bird flies harder,
Or when a horse gallops forth,
Where dolphins leap over water,
And when we give ourselves,
Helping others around us,
Giving all who we are to life,
As all are filled with passion,
Of those who have been before,
All of us feeling the heartbeat,
Of those who are to come,
For love exists before birth,
Love exists beyond death,
Defeating its power in full,
As life blossoms beyond time,
Proving the presence of souls,
Marked by the tethers of love,
Felt by all who breathe and move,
For there are many chapters written,
Into the story that never ends,
As events are marked by changes,
But there are never endings.