To each their own piece to the puzzle of life… to each rests a singular entity that matches to others and is an ill fit to others still… how often we try or attempt to make our edges fit into places they will not go but we wish them to… we smooth the rough edges and try to tame the savage inner beast’s voice and we can succeed for a time but eventually the beast will win out and we will pull away from the tight fit in search of a more perfect one that is fluid with our desires… our needs… our passion… often we set passion aside as being a sweaty discourse to a physical want or desire when it is an emotion that pulls us to our inner self… what are we passionate about… what are we seeking… so focused upon that we can lock out the world and just absorb ourselves within… we are puzzle pieces to the rest of the world… we walk in and we connect… we complete a picture we are the first piece in others… we are just another square in another… we bring our presence into the room and the aura changes… perhaps slightly or perhaps in a profound way… our fit or presence is the peace we bring… how well we do so depends on us… our place of mind… our peace of mind… our maturity… our wisdom… and our desire to do so… some we wish we could grasp hold of and others we never imagined wish to embrace us… what piece is this… another corner in the tapestry of time we shared… from this another day is formed… a laugh… a hug… a cry…

People cling to whatever lifeline they can grasp when in panic mode… Help me I am drowning in my own thoughts… what do I do… here just hold on… weather the storm is usually how we deal with such episodes… and when the wave finally breaks and the winds have swept the plains free we can put the pieces of the puzzle back together once more… sort of like humpty dumpty… you just have to allow the time for the fall and then it is time to clean up… there is not a thing one can do before… one has to wait… patience for some is beyond them… in this scenario they better learn that there is no alternative… God comes in their time not ours… enjoy the time because it is forever after that… let them cling if they must… butt truly nothing can be done… the list afterwards is rather long… but not before…

The flash is the moment… the pan the metal to reflect upon… the heat provides the incentive to get on and off the flames as quickly as possible… so we trapped the dice… came into the square only to find the speed at which the clock rotates is at the speed of another time… a memory perhaps where we recollect and then we are here in this time and suddenly the time we were is another time past not present… the cue was off… perhaps by a slight degree but enough to make the strike a spare and of course the ball never goes where we want it too… that is why the patient waited for the third choice offered… the first two were for him relatives of the initial idea… we have to respond to the trip of the mind or we answer in a way that is not productive to the unconscious… here one minute gone the next… a dance for sure a half step danced in a quarter of the time…

He rotated in one place… sang a song of long ago… listened to the strings as they lead the orchestral maneuvers… waited patiently for the dark… slipped on the floor… danced till the dawn woke up the roosters and slept until the night wrapped him in a warm embrace… such is the wild… the innocence and the shuffles of God’s feet…

The best at times makes no sense at all… in fact if we just let go of attempting to make all things make sense then some of the nonsensical notions or ideas find a firmer hand to guide them into reality… in fact fantasy and dreams have a valid place in the sphere of reality… they can come for me but they will find that the forest is a decoration that defies the presence of anyone but the known… I followed the stream along the corner… not around it… along it… there is a subtle difference in the wording that makes the difference seam akin to the fabric… such is the fabric as it is present in my mind… once removed from my mind to the realm of reality the fabric takes on an entirely different feel… a rip in this reality will tear the fabric asunder… while a rip in this other will only rend the fabric… subtle differences for sure but each has a most profound flavor that goes with it… chaos or calamity… a name or a ring… a fox in the whole or a parting of the nights… hold me in the light and I will tell you all… the darkness blinds me to my weaknesses… so give me the best of the nonsensical and I will pass the time with what is left of my pride…

There is this gap that occurs in my thought processes… I come to a “T” in the road and have to choose a direction… left or right… this is not one of those places where you can come to the ”T” or the fork and take it because each way will lead you to the same place just by an alternate route… here one must take pause to consider the consequences of each step… from this point on we have chosen another path… we are stepping off of this one and onto another… perhaps we will find that this one is better suited to our purpose… perhaps we will find that we enjoy this path more so than we did the one previous… this is the first step in our future and we should take time to pause before leaping in one direction or another… a moment in limbo perhaps to mull over some questions that come to mind… then a choice and we should be on… for to wait too long would be to linger in a stationary place… a sitting target is so much easier to pin down… no one have to pause… consider and then choose… the gap is there to remind me to give the choice consideration… this is not one of those I always go right times… this is one of those scenarios where we should take time to ponder before leaping…

I find consideration on a thought to be more difficult than impulsive response… in fact I prefer impulsive response to the thoughtful process… one grants me the freedom to just be me… the other allows me myself and I to consider the threads of my words before releasing them… a draft than a redraft and then a final version that we share… every been with someone who thinks before they speak… the conversation tends to be wickedly slow… so slow in fact that we meaning me or I have this tendency to just keep talking… in effect not letting the other get a word in edgewise or any wise… even having said so much most of my conversations of late are pondered and slower paced than they used to be… we learn how others wish to be dealt with and we should consider the audience from time to time… not all the time because if we cater to the audience we lose the purpose which is the art of what we are doing… so we have this fine line of being artful and aware of the art and then presenting it in a ways that does not conflict with the audiences senses… though there are times when we do wish to stir the pot so to speak…

Which end is the weaker of the ends… do we have ends or are we more edges and energy that crosses barriers… we have sides front and back… left and right… tops sides and bottom sides… in fact the bottom is misrepresented… the true bottom is one’s feet…

The roll is a series of chances… all chances is probability… the likelihood of an outcome… a particular outcome occurring is based on how many variables we have in play… in reality across a sufficient span of time all combinations will occur in equal measure… probability and statistics is what we use to measure and figure out what a likely outcome will be based on certain factors inherit in the average player… there is lies the game… the gamble… the basis for all betting comes down to the chance and the probability of an outcome… there are certain factors we control and certain ones that we have to trust to chance herself… and others are controlled by the house so to speak… the turn of a card can mean the difference between a royal flush and a regular straight or nothing at all… it comes down to the risk factor… what are we willing to put at risk to gain the return we see in lights… will we take the dollar chance to win the billion with a trillion to one odds… sure why not someone has to win after all… and if you play long enough and take enough chances eventually your time does come… the question is are you in the game when it does… so many combinations of parallel lines and takes and opportunities come to bear that one has to consider that it is impossible to factor them all… some we have to guess at and like anything in life once you factor in the guess all variables come unhinged… I trust my guess more than say another’s but it is still a guess even if it is an educated one… when we put luck in the room it can either be a good one or a bad one and that is the difference between a smile and a frown… it is what keeps most of us on the sidelines in a bet… we like what we have a lot more than risking it for the promise of what can be… we prefer the bird in hand to the two in the bush…

Word games come to mind… a play with words… a scrambling of the pieces of a logical structure to an illogical one simply by changing a word here or there… take these and roll… pick from one of each of these categories depending on the die and make something of it… I have been a party to this sort of gesture and come away with the fragments peeking out from the edges into the light of the daze… can you rest assured… must assuredly… well I believe I can… butt perhaps the challenge is not in scrambling the words… butt in giving meaning the scrambled text…

Certain elements are best left to their own… in fact they seem to do best when left to their own threads… when we plant a seed we can grant it some care in the beginning so that it gets its roots down and then it is best to just let it go… who are we to know what is best… we can perhaps take a bit of time to watch for the weeds or the harsh winds that may damage the youthful sprouts but after a time it either survives the storms or it withers… all we can do sometimes is provide the opportunity for sun… the rest is well up to the other to absorb…

A pair of dice rests on the table… close to the comforts… close at hand… there are those nights when the heat of the mind keeps one struggling with the covers… with the warmth… with the cold sensations… I speak of the fluid movements… of the tears… and then the ideals… the dice reminds me that it is a gamble whenever one opens the door as an invitation… it is a roll of the dice that anyone will pick up the strange glow of light and seek to know… it is a long shot that anyone will enter and an even longer one that they will stay once they know… the knowledge speaks to us… we crawl within the confines of the sheets and we huddle close in the darkness… a sweet dream… a mystery… a forgotten something somewhere… a forgotten someone somewhere in time… we sigh… we laugh… we cry sometimes for the joy… the passion and the kiss… the rocks remain where they are… the hand on the wheel steady… we give ourselves to the others hands and drift within the comforts… a lesson in letting go… one in trust… and one in just being who we are… if we are only one thing we would fall far short of the description… we are many varied paradoxes… so perhaps indulging them from time to time allows us to embrace the many facets of ourselves… so we can accept that while we dream we are free to wander… and the rocks can wait…

The landscape sparkled in the light mist… the colors vibrant… a certain fountain of need rests in the inner sanctum of self… to whom do we share the inner soul… to whom do we turn… there is that inner peace that we hold out in the garden of our Eden and know that it is held in the same regards by all those who share the space… to sit in the silence of time ready to leap at the escape… We find our own private Idaho… then we open its doors to others and share the space… knowing that we bare out souls some in doing so… how joyful is a place when words are no longer a prerequisite… where just being there is all that is required for the moment to be unique… we get that sense of being with some… we find ourselves together in their presence… they sit within us a magic that we find difficult to cultivate without their hand in the mix… and yet we know intellectually that we can… we just choose to share the solitude that is so rewarding to our souls…

If one does what is right… are they wrong… that thought or question has perhaps a simple answer and then perhaps not so simple a one… if we do what is right we never risk a feeling of having done wrong by a misstep… we may still wrong another without intending to but it was not by our intention and this is a balm to the mind… we did right and we injured another… our intention was to avoid such pitfalls and yet we did… when do we come to terms with this… probably never… intentions are pacing stones that lead us from where we are to where we end up at the end… when I look back to the beginning I wonder how things get so tangled… they do so by threads that we weave and intentions we have… brought a long thread with me that weaves into the tapestry of today and when I wander out I am entangled in a thousand other lives… and anyone could be hurt or injured by my actions without intent… so intent does not by its place excuse an action or a reaction… intent only when precisely welded to harm is pure in its intention… that is why intentions are the paving stones to hell… because they sometimes force us away from what is right… to what appears right… and just because something appears correct does not mean it is… of course in action is just as perilous as action so we are in this very thin margin of steps where we can fall to either side and be damned either way… such is the weave we walk… such is the paradox of ships that we sail… hand on the wheel… wind in the sails… a full light to guide ones focus and the stars to take over when the sun sets… I passed the first set of stars on the right… now it is just straight on till morning… and when the dawn opens my eyes perhaps I can fill the void with something fresh that wets my appetite…

Ships have a way of getting where they need to be whether we steer them or whether we allows ourselves to drift with the tides or the favor of the winds… each has its presence in our dreams and even in our day to day lives… we do at time trust in others to transport us from one place to another… we do at times take on the wheel ourselves… each situation has its presence in our day and fits into the puzzle of where we need to be or wish to be… sometimes the road is not a direct one or one that is easily traversed by the mass systems… some roads require a solitary rider… a single horse or other mode of transportation to reach the far end of the way… some ways are well formed and easy to wander… other ways are harsh and we are forced to cut our path through the thick brush and brambles… some we leave footsteps in the sands of time others we leave a somewhat permanent cut though the underbrush… and some we move along without presenting a single sign that we have wandered past… our ship gets to where we need it to be and while we believe at times we need someone at the wheel or that we must possess a sail to catch the slight whisper of winds all we need do is trust in the soulful direction and go with that… the trick them is knowing ourselves well enough to figure out which one is the soul direction and which one is the direction of the desire or want… our soul pulls us toward what we need… what we desire deeply to be truly happy… what we are passionate about and what makes us breathe deeply of sighs… laughter and the sweet scent of happiness… we may desire a hand on the wheel to steer the ship of our state of mind other than our own from time to time… it is nice to dream of another slipping into the wheelhouse and taking up the task as we wrap ourselves in their arms and just let the winds take us… for a wonder filled time the ride can be magical and for some of us this is the pinnacle of our needs and desires… for most though there is more that we wish for ourselves and for those around us… we wish to be more and to bring forth more from those that walk with us… we do not wish to lead or to follow but just be with… to have company to ride beside or walk beside… we let go the threads of times before and times yet to be and live wonderfully well in the present of now… so when the hand is ours upon the wheel does the ship take on another tack… when the wind is from another’s breath does it alter our course… is the sails are of another’s making do they catch as much as ours do… or are these alterations minor in comparison to the gifts of sharing with another the thrill of the everyday… of finding moments in the storm of each day to recall or to remember another in your mind… granting another the tiller has never been easy… one must trust the tiller man… one must have the tease and the power of reflection to relax the inner desire for control and then to take the deep breath and let go… after so much time our reflections change… we can seize it over time but from one day to the very next we may miss the slight variations… I washed up on a few beaches after taking the rocks straight on and losing so I know the price of being arrogant with immovable forces… I also know that to drift helplessly would result in a similar outcome… sometimes it is best to seize the wheel open the sails and let the wind take you… at others one must find the lee shore and hold ones bow into the wind and let the storm pass… and since each day is a storm of sorts it is a metaphor for living…

The seed planted a long time ago finds a place finally… the pot moves… the ship settles and rolls… we can take such things with us… seeking out the perfect place to place them… but to carry them for too long makes growth stagnant… trees can only get so bit locked within the confines of a pot… the bigger the dream the more of a need it has to be planted in the soil of opportunity… to find its place from that point in time on… sure some dreams will wither and fade in such places… wrong opportunity… bad timing… the list of reasons why litter the mind… but true dreams will eventually flourish… if the tree is resilient and has a good series of roots it will take to the soil and grow wider reach higher than the potted palm we carry forth with us… the letting go is frightening… we have this within us for so long and have cared for it for so long how do we let place it within the grounds of our garden and leave it… if we don’t it will never be all it can… if we do it may never finds its place among the others we have… here is the seed… choose what is best to do and leave it at that… whatever it is the ship sails… the wind is ripe and the weather is forecasted for smooth seas…

Often I find the elapsed time to be more than the combination of time and experience… it has another component for me… an irrational component or spirit to its nature… here is this time and I spent it doing this… and yet there is more to the time then one can represent in a few words or describe in a history of the moment… putting down what we see feel hear and speak takes us from the moment so we observe and experience the movement… this is our representation of the time… yet we forget that we also influence the time and have an equal effect on the outcome… we can add to our experience or take away from it by our interaction of lack their of… if we embrace the moments we come away with a much richer experience than if we simply observe the unfolding… being a witness to the wonders about us is not a bad thing to do at times… watching the sunrise of the sunset can be magical moments where all we are called to do is be there and to open our sense to the unfolding motion of time… if we are shown a picture of a sunrise we will connect with an experience of one… and so we learn by the experience of one what others are like… does not mean they all will be exactly the same but we will generalize the experience… having done so we will then know what a sunrise is… what a story is… what a tale is… what experiences we enjoy are and what are ones we fail to enjoy… our  ability to generalize our experiences allows us to skip over some of the steps when we learn… what we need to remember however is to know skip necessary ones… every met someone who knows… or who answers all queries with I know… all stories with a related experience… very few people in this world have that wide a set of experiences to be able to know… how strange the world is to someone who knows… for then the world lacks something… it lacks a sense of the unknown that is both intriguing and mystifying to the adventurous souls… if we know then why do we misstep… the thing is we lack knowledge or a complete set of knowing about any one thing… we know a little about a lot and never too much about any one thing… in that way we can be experts of our own unknowing and in that way we can remain open to what we don’t know… which for me at least is a lot more than what I do… a logical mind would never would grasp neither the head nor the tale but would wait for the perfect opportunity to coax the wild inside the safest place… some of our nature is not safe and should therefore never be coaxed within but allowed to frolic outside for as long as we have that sense of being the caged beast…

The knowledge is there but sometimes the effort to make it come out is limited to the vehicle in which we are riding… in other words we are and continue to be the barriers to our abilities… we slip and we slide over things more often because we simply forget to get out of the way… so when we are ready we do and when we are not we are preparing to… almost to a singular person we will find the words to say what is on our minds if asked what do you think… but to write it takes a bit more focus… as if putting something on paper makes it real… until it is there is not a real thought or a real idea… it is simply something we have inside our minds… I am never lost in the moment as completely as when I slip over the conscious to the unconscious… just let the water fall so to speak and the words find a way of getting from the inner thoughts of my mind to the page… as we find the passage the string of opportunities present themselves… there is but a singular doorway that has a thousand ways of being found and a thousand more ways of being opened… all we need do is find our key… our link to the secrets we locked away… I found the fragments in this cavern and forever I return here just to sit and listen to the notes unfold… the echoes are endless reminders to listen as well as to let go… when we let go the ideas they find the air to breath and the nurturing in the world to become realities… if we keep them all inside we limit them to us… selfish is that…

It is the beginning… the start… the first step in the moment… I remember the routine that comes at all new thresholds… there is a certain hesitancy on my part before I enter a new doorway to poke my head inside and see the layout of the land… to be careful… to wonder about the logical of leaping right in… I do leap of course because well we should from time to time leap at an opportunity… I can sleep tomorrow or I can take care of the responsibilities another day… today calls for me to just reach out as far and as wide as I can manage and find something to embrace beyond the immediate… I look to the stars at times so I know just how far I have to imagine… just how far we can leap before finding our place… The final stroke comes with the exhausted sleep…

At times we all seek the shelter from the storm that rages about us… at time we want nothing more than to be wrapped in the protective arms of another who speaks the words that calm our minds and allows us to rest while they watch over us… This someone to watch over me and be with me while the storms of life rage… In my experience that same need vanishes once the storms subside… in face we would resist the protection once the storms have ended… so what we truly wish for is a protection that takes us up in our moments of need and then as the dawn of a new day awakens us has mysterious vanished… this storm fairy we could keep in our pockets and use when the moments existed and then put them away when the moment passes… such a luxury it would be to take from our souls the burdens as they surround us and then leave us when the weight of the world is bearable once more… such souls do exist… they are often not people we would imagine… they arrived when the need is there and they disappear when the time passes… they are souls of empathy and compassion who put aside all the emotions that perhaps exist and focus on the present need… angels of mercy… perhaps they are or perhaps they are more human than we give than credit for… perhaps they are as we should be more often… the reason they stand out is that they are so unique… so different… they have that ability to calm the storm that rages around and we find comfort in that ability…

If we don’t ask than how does one know what we want… the same is true I guess of ourselves… if we never say what we desire how are we ever going to reach it…  that being said… reaching for the stars is a wonderful way to make strides as long as we are able to see the gains we make as positive… some would have difficulty not reaching the final dream cloud… I over stand the need to dream big… I also know that human nature is such that we often forget that the dream is a basis for change… this is the direction I wish to go… and however many steps I stake I will be further on toward where I wish to be…

Here’s to setting the bar as high as we can imagine and jumping as high as we can to reach it…

There are many degrees or variations of a thought… some are light and breathe easy… some weigh the mind after a time with a heavy residue… some are for the fun side but not to be overdone… if one over does the potent mixtures one pays the price with time remembering the indulgence that was for the moment… The idea that we can take a potion and just indulge ourselves in the luxury entices me… I often dream of the magic elixir that removes the hesitation… removes the barriers and for the moment allows one to just let go… of self… of beliefs… of ideals… take this and just be… and when you wake up you will remember without the strings pure moments… something to smile about… to have and to hold… ahh such desires I have… foolish wants and thoughts… I watch the sun sent… the moon rise… the pillars of the night unfold… I sit in the curtained room… waiting… night has crested and I swim in her veils of darkness… I imagined the meeting over the rail… a drink… mixed… perhaps shaken… the rattle of the ice… the glasses… the twinkling of the lights… the eyes… the smiles… laughter in the air… all a jumble in my mind… I roll over in the night and awaken to the silence… a whisper… ahhh sweet is the taste of the drink… a lingering softness to the air… a throat parched… a need not quenched but sated for the moment… perhaps that is all one ever gets in such dreams… a sated desire… such are the paths we wander at times… the slippery slopes of naked dreams entwined with strings… a glass sparkles in the dimming light… a toast to the sun to the morrow already dawning…

Strike when the fire is best… to wait is to be consumed by the licking flames… be prepared and to that end dive in…

Firsts are intriguing for their newness… a few firsts are always a good encounter… over time in the framework of things we get to experience the newness of the first day… the sparkle of the dawn… the reflections of the light… the sunset with all its colors… and finally the dark veil of the end… a new day… a new month… a new opportunity… or perhaps just another day in the life of us…

I seem to be experiencing a sort of typing dyslexia… I have the correct letters in the words but all jumbled up and about… some of that is due to my somewhat lax attitude about typing… it is better than my handwriting but just barely… and I find the weird assembly of letters before I edit them a twist to my mind’s eye… I came upon the letters scattered and arranged them in a way that suited my direction… soon the jumbled mess made sense to me the writer but left some emptiness to me the reader… so I shook the canister once more and let spill the contents so the letters rolled in every which direction… now it is your turn to peace together the mess and make sense of the jumbled thoughts of the maddest of idealists…

There is to me a certain wonder to the who then if not me scene that plays out in my head… I know that it will come down to me certainly to get the ball moving in a direction but the final thoughts will come down to a committee and that is like a congress… the more thoughts that are opened  the more chances we have of getting not a thing accomplished… we talk a lot… we discuss… we read… we research and we delay… no wonder nothing every gets done… I like the committee of one… the chief and the Indians all rolled into one… you come… you see… you conquer… a real simple plan… that yields results…

Being carried off is always enticing to the dreamer… do we not all dream of being relieved of our burdens and then to be carried off by the one who fills every void and idea of who the perfect match to us is… can we not dream of them… see them clearly in our mind’s eye… cuddle up to them and melt into their being… we dream of such things that seem never to unfold and then we are puzzled one day when a peace of it finds us… a hand to hold… a shoulder to cry upon… someone to share the art of the dance or words across a pond and we miss that these are elements of us… the gift is hue remember… this is the gift we share and while it is careful one… a measured one… it is also a very spontaneous one that is limitless and at times wonderful to hold… I dream of being carried off and being surrounded by light for a time that washes away the efforts and answers the questions before asked and suddenly all the things that are become were…

It is not the touch… it is being touched that allows you to hear… there is a slight difference in perception that allows one to touch while another is touched by the fragile threads of the conversation unfolding in their mind… yes… I hear the wind echoing across the great water… and no it is not in my imagination…