It must have been the colors that first lured me… the colors of the rainbow as they flashed across ones eyes… the blue of the sky resides in them… the green of the earth… the brown of the land… the white of the clouds… the deep dark of silence… It must have been the colors or the shades of hue that surrounded me…

There are words to share and mysteries to unravel… each of us has a peace to the puzzle of the other one… In the creative us oozes the wonder… out… in… a push or a shove… a drip or a drop releases just enough to insight the senses… Magic happens in the most unusual of places… in the most unusual of ways…

Some times the words another thinks make more sense then the words we can imagine inside ourselves…

The web being spun in endless movements of time spaced just so… a weave of instinct to cover the escape… to feed the mind, the soul reaches farther then the body can grasp… at the edge of physical endurance the spirit begins to rise… at the farthest reach the spirit soars free of the burden of the hear and now… free at last to roam the limitless expanse of time… The roll spins its lot… the coaster having stopped for a brief exit and entrance moves on once more… The vows having taken place… a life to live up to… an endless limitless wonder…

The walls seem higher… the darkness darker… the light dimmer in ways the eyes struggle to explain… A nothing covers the some things… A need lingers in the void… a covering of time… an illusion crushed… crumbled… played with… higher still the walls seem… the mountains range… deeper the valleys become… and on the plateau life goes on… as if reality is the illusion and the dream is real… Maybe sew that the seams are cast evenly we dance into the darker knight… and hold still in the dimmer sun of the day… Maybe the colors of the rainbow are as bright as my eyes can see them… Questions once more delight me… answers pose more questions to create more possibilities… the old boss the new boss the same old new boss… a servant to the hand of fate… the whim of destiny… I whisper words to the winds in the four corners of the world… and I hear the answers on the next eve… a sense of words… passed in silence wraps inside me… a hand is held in silence… a word exchanged inside my mind… There is passion in time… in the words… in the music… in the sounds we create… Once more I am… a conduit of words that flow… over time… over falls… over hills… over forests and trees… the magic of these are within me… passed along in time to others from the ones who filtered it through me… the sky is the same… the earth the same earth… the waters the same waters… the magic is the same magic that bound generations before us…

The will of ways sways in the breeze let on by the magic of difference… the magic of diversity… the spirit willed on by the weak mind left to simmer in the heat of a desire that trapped the soul in an endless spiral… an updraft of thought awakens the spirit of dreams… a wind of change… a twister of difference swirling about… the finger of God across the earth’s surface… a force beyond understanding… beyond the grasp of the human mind full we are of the elements that are just outside the reach of our mind…define it we do with simple categories of unexplained phenomenon… A place for everything and every thing in its place… a place for the unexplained to find a home… a place for the diverse to be labeled and put away… a place for the mind to find rest with a place to put even the most misunderstood things… a sigh of relief as the words find a gentle reminder to put the unexplained to rest… A way to define the world in terms we can all over stand… in some way…

A child dreams of adventure… a child wonders what exists outside the boundaries… a child has know restrictions on the imagination… a flight taken… a journey lived through… a glorious death to once more spring to life having gained a realization… of nothing more then it was all a game to play…

If I fall is there some one there to rescue me… If I stop is there some one there to notice the absence of me… If the rain washes away any sign of me would the spirit remain long enough to ignite the passions once more in those who sat bye… Will my questions ever end or the dreams ever stop or the mountains ever tumble to the sea or the valleys rise to the heights they once dreamed of… will the days come in waves that wash over me in torrents of sounds… will the months pass as quickly as they seem to or will they slow to a crawl… If the bell tolls loud enough will I hear it… If the words just stop on the tip of my tongue will my fingers take over… will this passage end with a question or a mark… will the endless prattle ramble on and on… while I listen to the sounds of the soul, the words of other souls, the stories of other minds, the voices rising up in song after song… a religious adventure… a spiritual quest to the other side of my own madness… or the awakening of the spirit… will some one come see about me… after all the words are said and done… after all the magic has eked out of me… after all the sparks have flown… after all the dreams are dreamt and the journeys taken… after all the smiles are washed away… will some one see me to the end of the line… a paragraph full of questions… a series of questioning thoughts to ponder… a linked set of thoughts… passionate we are of the turning of the worm… of the settling of the storm clouds… of the rising of the sun on anew day… aware we are of the gentle wonder of nature as it rises up from the harsh turns that beset us… A single rose blooms… a single insect survives… a single smile rises up from the stream… a task that lies to us…

Free falling towards what ever adventure we have… a leap of faith to draw upon… a jump into open arms… a leap of youth full exuberance… a dance of joy… the hand of fate on one side and the hand of destiny on the other side… a walk or a stroll… a run in the wilds of any imagination… One step up and know steps back…

The last one is the best… or it appears to be the best… after a time some time needs to be spent wondering… The bread in the breadbox is wasting away… knot eaten in time as with all things is stale… food for other times… a bit hard on the teeth… a lasting impression it makes… The last is the best… the first after a time taking on the resonance of being the first the latest being the best of what is offered…

Some times along the way the rambles get in the way… the casual thoughts that float in and then quickly out of the mind as we attempt to get some thing write… Seeking out the best of places to sit in residence… A question asked… many answers appear before the questioner… all answers lead to more questions and the routine circles about… One way or another is chosen by some mind and put to the test of use… a working model results in more tinkering… The cold cool winds blow change… and ideas flow easily… In the clearing stands the answer to ones prayers… each wishing for a some one… a dream come true revealed and then pulled away… a search for the vision that haunts ones dreams… a quest to find them among the many… a drive to serve the hand of fate… the path of your own destiny…

A gentle wind blows across ones mind… A simple memory is all… of a time as yet to be that was… a single thought that touches the mind ever so gracefully… Aware we are of the present of our time… awakened to the sounds of an earlier age has tripped us back in time so that now we relive the fragrance of the flowers… the passion of the rain… the shivering in the cold waters… the goose bumps that played across our first kiss… our first look across a room that stopped us… A breath taking experience… A gentle wind carries the lure of times gone bye and yet to once more be locked in delight filled memories we bathe our minds and refresh our souls…

Stopped I have along the way… a little less public with my thoughts… a lot more private with my wanderings I have become… A few days to sit in the shuttered life… to let the wind and rain pass bye and bye… A new plant grows… an old plant withers to the ground… a new coat of paint for an old structure adds life… A new tune springs to be listened to… a strain for the ears… a fiddle plays… a bagpipe moans… the fields of gold burn in anticipation… Stopped I have at the crossing of some roads to await a hand to hold… I know one is there in the places I have knot yet searched… Every so often a smile encourages me to drown in the laughter and swim in the tears of joy… leaping with faith… we crash into the waters and slip beneath the waves… rolling and tumbling…

I long for music today… different then the words or sounds I am used to… a need to crawl out from my own cage…

The circle seems to be broken… the endless revolutions stopped in the middle of a sentence… the third word from the right side collapsed inwards… a revolving door stops suddenly to capture the frozen frame of time… an exposure of light and dark… of black on white… or colored images to shake off… The chill frozen cools the warm air… the hot breathe of time pushes us across time… always there to see… always there to hear the foot steps beating the pave mint behind… or to be chasing after… A slow walk towards some thing and then a turn away for a time to reconsider the prospects…

Time passes through me… and then I am knot where I am suppose to be I am some place else… A sudden chill reminds me that I am knot where I am I am some place else and that my mind is occupied with an alternative thought to the one I am considering as we type or play… Often… well some times any way… I actually listen to the words… the music carrying me to another place altogether… I miss a number of opportunities this way while experiencing a number of possibilities I would other wise not have… a balance that life leaves behind… or life places just within the grasp of outstretched arms… a single taste of the sweetness that others get to hold… a lingering scent of delight in the air… smells of vanilla and coconut…

Once more the channels fill, the water rises… the edge tea hers… a whisper in the night time air or morning hours often missed floats bye and bye… a gentle remind her of the days as they begin… of the nights as they end… of the smiles that ignited a thought… a nothing to compare to… a some thing to compare to… yet nothing compares to hue… a stretch of the imagination beyond the real… into un-realism at its best and most interesting… When in doubt make up a word or two to in courage the spirit… Didn’t it make more sense spoken in the light? A star brighter… a magical illusion spared the harsh reality of life… lingers longer… A yes in the deeds… a knowing more… a stirring of the magic that separates the dream from the fantasy… a true feeling from an imagined one…

A step away and no one calls… a whisper in the darkness finds me alone with my thoughts on these days the water rises and the sun shines… the magic swirls… the end justifies the path we take… all along the way we find diversions for the mind to link up with… side roads to take… off shoots to linger on for a moment before the journey begins once more… Some one to work with… some one to play with… some one to care for me… some one to watch over me… A luxury knot to be… those some times are long past… the passage of time having taken its toll on those and passing on to me the torch to bear…

In joy the words spread… in joy the torrents spring forth into the wonder of a life time enriched by a single touch… in joy the smiles shared bring forth more of those moments when one thinks of another and holds them close in the mind’s eye to dream on, dream with…

Another one lights a smile… another one grabs a hand… a gentle touch in reflex holds tight… another one smiles and brings smiles to the other one for there are always other ones to wish for in dreams they approach and in reality they surround us in endless circles… another one to spark a light…

Along the road we ride… along the way we are transformed… along the way we grow… we listen to words… we hear them some times in converse to how they are spoken taken in and translated in ways ambiguous to the nature of delight we smile at times when we should frown for the weight of sadness holds us… The candle that burns some times goes out sooner and more suddenly then we would wish it to… The tide that ebbs and flows edges near to us… We are spirits that fly… spirits that wish… spirits that dream in words some times thoughts… some times flowers or clouds take them… A life is a rose some times and sometimes it is a thorn… either way it is what it is… It seems to me that when it is time we take the thorn or we take the flower and listen to the soft foot steps of time… The wisdom of our time having been what it was we list to one side… in hope of hearing another…

Since the time of the last time… Since the time of my passing close bye… since the words we share are often the words we wished to pass… since the time of the parting of lives left us as we are now… since that time we walk in ever closing and expanding circles of thoughts… Often there are moments in a day where I sit and a thought rises up to speak to me… An open door swings and I grasp a glimpse of a time long ago and far away on a different sea…

The fire washes the rain… the rain cleanses the mind once more to roam free… a new light flickers ignited in the freedom of each morning… at peace we are as the day begins… a singular time to hold onto… one more time to rise above the water… one more time to dive beneath the waves and revel in the warm waters of youth filled possibilities… There is temptation and there is the lure of sweet desire… a smile passes and soon the heart… in realization explodes with joy…

Took the opportunity to copy some of your thoughts… took the opportunity to slip inside your mind… took an opportunity to sit with you inside the kind that races back and forth and search the recesses for a toe to hold a grip to grasp… a little ledge to sit upon and in the clarity of the mind’s eye to stir the magic that is you…

Asking questions… answering words… a why floats on bye… there are always whys to grasp hold of… the toll of the bell or a ringing of the heart speaks to us in a loud voice… a vibration… a stirring of the soul to find the right way to go… lost in the confusion I wander about circling the wagons to protect what is inside hidden from view… a wagon of one wanders alone in contrast to the horses of plenty it rides on in search of a some where to settle in…

The edge of my own madness creeps closer and I fall into the void that exists between the side that is yours and the side that is mine… the bridge open to passage allows one to walk across the expanse easily without restrictions I settle into the central place to watch over the fires that burn once ignited they fuel the passions of creation within us both… There are times when the hollow nests of time seem to fill every place… the seems having stretched far and wide… the mind letting go of the present to swim in the past tense… of a future possibility… There is nothing like now to bathe in the luxury… to swim in the void… to immerse one self in the edge… Pushed up against it I wanted more and crave it still in my heart for all time will it burn inside me… a lure… a fantasy that I take with me and create more joy, more passion and more delight… I am on the edge of my own madness reveling in the possibilities and the wonder of hue… a sweet dream passed in the night and I felt the present of a soul close to mine… a cherished passing in the hours of the day… a remembrance of a smile that touched… a whisper that spoke volumes and a touch that stirred more then just a heart and a soul… creation rolls forth from that day… words… music… pictures… smiles they have generated… dreams they have fueled… lives they have changed…

There are those things we must do… the way of wonders… the path of least resistance calls forth the waters of life flows easily at times… the forces of nature play out so that it runs down the streams to the sea that calls it… the up hill race is for those who wish to buck the natural elements and reach the places of their birth to relive once more the life cycle and then to let the course of nature take hold… a light goes out… and a light goes on…

The defense is up… the challenge to keep close and just so far away without being so far away… a knee jerk expression or so and the mind wanders down a different path… I have a few needs… as I wander… and many of them are left to the winds… the ones who over stand the need have seemed to ignore it… Tired I am at the pictures… the tones… the music… the need every day to sit… driven to the sanity levels… the balance… and I am chilled to the bone… on the star filled night… the day washing the skies clear with light…

An expression lingers long after the first or last impression is sent… The words written some times confuse the mind… lingering in endless pockets or voids of time to jump out at the least probably moment… An opportunity to change appeared and at best it is a new way… at worst it is a return to an old way… Once the pieces are placed back together the puzzle will be missing a piece or two… Just the way it is when others venture onto the realm of another in the after math of the damage done… It was not as they say the needles work as much as it was the work of the machine itself… a destructive force of sound cards… over loaded with joy… and the crash was heard in the hall ways of places best kept in the dark…

Once more the screen is alive on my desk top minus a few elements that I like butt ones they frown upon… the well is deep and one needs to watch when one dips into it for the in joy mint… The passage of time lingers and I will fill it with the other preoccupations that I find as wondrous and interesting as that method was… the sure is just another island to stand upon… In time we all pass on the solid for the less then to leap in faith… to jump for the joy we can get in other ways… to wander down a path way or two… There is always another way to reach out and touch some one… the silent hand is some times the most passionate hand…

Each day trips a light… each day lingers in the mind for a moment illuminated by the stars, the glow of the moon… each day is the completed picture we envisioned the night before… colored in the shades of our emotions… Each day is our work of art displayed in the gallery of life for all to bear witness to… It is us exposed in detail… stripped of our insecurities and placed on a wall to be viewed… even the most shy person is a witness to life as it is painted by their own hand…

We wander many miles to find the way in which we can go in peace… The best of places are those we never imagined would welcome us… The best of times are those we hesitated to have at first… The bottles are the indication that life has made a turn inside… The jury is the judge of what is before you… The gentle hand is the sternest indication of change… the ability to give a little takes more strength then the inability to do so… We wander the paths until we stumble upon one that suits our liking… The journey to excellence is filled with many pot holes… to avoid…

The eyes of the world peer in… the eyes of one peer out… The night calls while the day awakens… the day passes as the night rolls on… In each place a time is the time… when the passing of the conscious mind takes a moment to sit and in joy the company… Some do it with words… others with thoughts… a musical interlude… or a chance… meetings as they are skip a beat… or twist the mind just enough… Swept under the rug I am a frequent dust bunny tied in bundles or pressed in a folder to read at some other time… Just as well for the some day will arrive just when opportunity knocks loud enough… The creative wonder of words plays out… they are in scribed magically on a screen for the eyes of the world to see… for the eyes of one to peer out with…

I drew the ace… it is okay… the queen of hearts once was the card of choice… but then that is fate… to deal with the hand destiny deals you… there will be another road that leads to a this place or some place else… Luck is the lady that strips away the game and places it clearly before ones eyes… and to see the wonder is to play know more… for the game is knot what one desired…

I have the time butt knot the finances… In time I will have the finances butt neither the time nor the opportunity… it is the way with life times of wonder… when opportunity knocks are we listening care fully to the sound of the knock and allowing destiny to open the door for us or are we sitting back waiting for a better one to come along… My life has been filled with hesitations… times of wishing I had or waiting for another time to arrive… The same story told in many different forms… over and over the ride slips, slides and washes away the bridges of time… the ware wolves are watching… opportunistic as they are… In time they will get what they seek… another set of bones to chew on…

One some times sees clearer with eyes closed… then with eyes wide open… One some times hears when listening to the sounds of another then they do when they listen to themselves speak… In particular one does as one does and they let the chips fall where they may fall… and in may the chips are mulched to but to bed among the flowers… One some times sees what is knot as well as what is… that is what is imagined… what is real is a totally different thing altogether… the reflection is not the reality… the reality is the reflection of what we wish it to be…

A sea quest of events played out one upon the other… Once upon a time a long time ago in a far off place yesterday I think it was that we began to dream of a place a little better then the one we were in and soon realized the one we were in was as good as it gets until we do some thing about the place we are in… The fairy thoughts soon begin to formulate the idea that we are the fairies of old legend in this time so if some thing magical is going to happen we have to perform that magic with a little bit of delight in the eyes of the world we can trip the delights just sew… sew… sew…

The pastures of each season change… the circles or cycles of each are evident to the tiller of the land… the ship of state rests upon the edge of the river of any one dream… Rock a bye the baby and let the bows break as they may… a thousand miles to go before sleep even begins to rest… the eyes will hear and the ears will sea… the senses distorted by what is before them… we begin to trust our intuition a bit more… a bit more we listen to the voices inside allowing for the culmination of time over the matter placed before us… What is there to do but to do as it comes… The torch song has been passed on… a shelter to ride out the storm… a warm place to put things… a snow storm… a rain storm… a fierce howling wind of change pushes us along the edge of our mind… An open doorway stands ajar in hand rests waiting for the first who can unseal what is inside the contents placed away preserved some time before…

A cold wind blows in the dead of the summer heat… in joy it washes over those it touches cooling them to the bone… a gentle rain upon their fields… a warm rain upon their face… the softest of soft petals to embrace as one shimmers in the change that they are part of… One is as bare as the day… peeled away are the elements that define and thrown into the fire we are… a filled sky… an empty ground… a crowded house filled with on lookers waiting for the cry that never comes forth… a laugh for the times… a tear for the times… a silent whisper for the times yet to be… a mysterious reaction… a child inside rendered to sorrow while the adult stands on and on… a never letting go… a forever time to share…

The skin frosts to the touch placed a part… the night time air frozen with delight sprinkled with cool mist… a cool reception… a cold wind blows and yet the air is warmer then one would anticipate… the words speak volumes to warm the heart… the gentle nature of things stirred… we look past the present to a more interesting future… missing the opportunity of now… we sit and wait… and wait and when the wait is over in a some time other then when we were ready to… it is a now time to get some thing done… that we should have done when it was time then… having waited with anticipation of perfection we are on the edge…

Walking a thin line it is some times impossible to achieve the results we wish… they elude us… they just move faster and with more twists and turns then we can anticipate and guard against… Some times the best way is to hold the road and let the course takes it own time to reach the end… Time was never my best of friends… Time always seemed to run out on me when ever I needed him to be around a bit longer… Yet time is steadfast and constant it is eye that wandered away and left time to waste… Soon the day will turn over… the night will fire the flames while the edge of darkness rests… just in the way of other delights I sit… anticipating a warm reception on a cold night… A blues tune plays… the music soft… the voices raspy and harsh from years of play… years of living the life expressed in words and music…

Into the night the stare brings thoughts to light… a dance of the imagination on the dark screen… the dance of the stars… the lights illuminated by the burning sun… a reflection of what is on the other side of the earth… a moon all aglow… a fool is soon parted… a fool is left to wonder some times if what he is, is worth being…

The midnight hour approaches closer now then yesterday… the minute of the change passes… a time just another in a long line of changes… an illusion of passing… one day to the next… a wind blows… a leaf rustles… a tree bends to the call of nature… a bird rests in the limbs… nestled in to rest the day away… a safe haven for a time… The mystery deepens… with each motion of time… a blink of the eye and the world changes… the day turns to night… night to day… for every ship there is one storm to ride out… one journey they would prefer to knot take again… and one they will knot survive… A little bit of the blues to rock the morning air… the relax the muscles… the air is heavy with thought… the day light with activities…

Time has slipped by before my eyes and while taking a few moments… I stopped along the way to sit with a thought… I slipped it on and let hue cover me… dripping with the waters from the river of my dreams I sit upon the edge wrapped in hue… wrapped in the silence… the quiet thoughts of being surrounded by hue… of being engulfed in hue… of spending dazes in hue… a twisting combination… as the waters run over me the sensations of hue fill me and take my imagination… running free… I let them… drip from me… sweating from me each desire… each passion… and passing them along to hue…

There are days when I just can’t seem to get it right… A game I donut play and yet it seems I do play some kind of game… witch one I am playing at it is obvious I am knot playing it very well… lost I am… twisting to find a way out I find only a thought to contemplate… a thought that some how it is knot as one would think but it is some other way altogether… Frustrated I am… try as I might… confused I have become once more… alone once more I sit and wonder… I sit here… thinking… just what is it? All the good inn the world is some times wasted on one non expression… The artist wishes to be a troubled soul for a time… the artist wishes to be Miss Understood… the artist wishes to struggle for the craft… The artist wishes secretly to be discovered while all the time wanting neither the fame nor the fortune fame would bring along the way…

I am beginning to believe that while I suppose that fate did the best she could… that my presence is more of a Miss Take… The best of worlds being as they are the tidal waves of emotions are beyond what can be dealt with… There are times for things… and they say timing is everything… I have never been good at just disappearing off the face of the earth… I have to face the reality that is before me… I take these things way to personal… It is time to step back and just let it be… The prince of times… the king of pain… the queen of hearts… the ace once more…

When in doubt ask knot a question simply step back and wonder… and some times I do wonder… I do sit here and wonder out loud even… at the words… at the trials that are placed before me… the wonders that are presented to me… and in the stillness of my own mind I hear the sounds of silence play out…

These are the best of times… the best of what I can hope to in joy sit… In some time from now I will find another way to express the creative mind within me… How does one get another to listen? It is knot the words that are written as much as the words written by them… The sounds of silence… creeps in and the flight is quick… all is not as well as one would be led to believe… powerless to alter the tides of change… I wait… in the patience there will come time… a noble gesture to ask a quest of you… and answer you will for it is destiny that desires your skills while you learn the way… Sitting upon the shore once more… I ponder the soul… the heart and the body in mind… a couple of days and I am off… off to wash in the lazy days before me… a promise of time to spend… free at last… free at last… and wanting nothing more then to be held… tight in the grasp of time for all time…

Never will I know the reasons… never will I care to ask… never will I venture on that path… for to know is to accept… a reason is not what is important… the effect is what is… this medium does not lend itself to experiments… a give and a take… One or two moments… a peace of your time… never will I know the reasons for a life time of doubt… a life time of words showered… some times it is not about what we believe it to be about… some times it is about the writer as much as it is about the reader… A conversation in time… removed the gate way… tempted I will no longer be…

The back ground simmers silently… the edge of time glows closer… the chance to be opens up for me… I will take the chance and let go for a time… just want to be free of the sense that I am wrong… that I am the cause… that I am the messenger of things I never intended to be… if you light the candle then the candle is your responsibility… to watch over… to guide the light to the places it should be set free in… I let my mind wander and while I find it impossible the possible creeps in… There was always some thing in what I do about me… the releasing of the years of pent up frustration… the changes required inside me to loosen the reins of time… the restrictions of a life lived older then my years were because it was what I thought must be done… I am younger now then I was then… younger in mind in body and in soul then I ever was as a child…

A crash followed a strange occurrence… a machine’s reaction to the words unspoken… I checked and rechecked and it was not to be found alive so it is dead… a lost sailor… a troubled mind… a machine sits idle staring back at me… the cursor blinks… an eye wide open asking for some thing to pull it back from the edge… wavering it falls silent into the precipice the void on witch it struggled to control… having failed the only way to go is inside… having gained less the only solution was to jump free of the tethered strings… to gain altitude one has to fly with open wings… to gain the currents of the winds of change… even eye must answer to another’s wish… another’s desire…

Knowing when to say hello is as important as knowing when to go… Knowing when to open and when to close… knowing when to ask and when to answer… knowing the times of change and the times of conformity… knowing the words to say at the time and the words to keep to ones self… Out here in the wilds of my imagination I some times forget that there are other fig mints that wander into this place with me…

You always do things the write way… In many ways there is never a wrong way to do some thing… When you care, when you love some one there is always the best offered and the best received… Wrap the hands about you and smile as the music plays one more song… wrap the thoughts of one last dance to dance… a simple sway to the movements of the music… a gentle rush of the wind in your hair… a glance deep into your eyes… a reflection seen as one is seen… by the eyes of the holder… a deep reflection that sees behind the hidden barriers into the soul… You always do the best of things… the thoughts… my thoughts… while some times fractured are filled with joy each day that I sit and reflect in your eyes… The debts of my soul are gratefully paid… for the joy I get sitting here with hue… wrapped about me… loving the day I get to hold the present… and knowing the sensation of having the present wrapped about me… Some days I need your help to find the words… and some times a vision of you finds me… to inspire the words… either way they are inspired… either way they are divine…

We all fall down once in a while and today was one of those… the best of intent washed over the banks and was cast adrift… A mind left to wonder and a body left to wander… the shores for some time have been dominant… it is important some times to be sure enough to be unsure… to be confident in ones ability to take on what ever happens to appear…

The best of what we have… at times falls short of what is needed to reach the other side of a void… We use the best as it was intended… yet we must accept that we are human and have limitations in our physical abilities, our emotional capabilities and in what we have learned so far… We are always on the curve of learning some thing new and interesting…

I some times wonder if it means anything at all… the words… the music… the power of the mind over what matters most… The dance of each to there own… The child makes the necessary choice… that the adult will leave aside… challenged to over stand we under stand only what we can reference… leaving the rest for some other time… I some times wander off on a journey to find… to get lost in the everyday… to seek the ends… the means… the vision in witch to accomplish the some things that make life more interesting… it is the best of what I can do… my best shot…

Much is spoken without words… Much of what we communicate we do so with the expression of our eyes… the beauty of thought is projected in words… in images we send out across the open space between us… what I paint with my mind is knot always the image you the reader gets… It is like sitting in front of a painting and trying to put together the thoughts of the artist who painted them… What is being said can be interpreted in as many ways as there are people who sit before it… Life is very similar… many times the intent is different then the out pouring… just works out that way…

Silence stirs loudly this morning… Sunday morning has pounced upon me… the days of ease are slipping away to be replaced by days of activity… once more we are primed and ready to jump start the week… on the morrow I will be off to play once more in the early hours of the day… A charge up the hill to do fun with the other inmates of the institution at witch I preside over… Sounds like a loony bin and in ways it is… and in ways it is knot… to the casual eye it is just a place of employ mint to me it is a small peace of life… what happens here happens all over the world… births… deaths… the struggles in the circle of life all occurring on as large a scale as we can imagine and on the smallest scale of one… The world encompassed in a nutshell…

Beauty is in the beholders eye… one forth can see the beauty… one forth can see only delight… one forth sees an image and one forth sees the night… It is the eye that pierces though that finds the beauty behind… it is the eye that beholds that interests me… How many times have the waves washed over us and sent us struggling to find a grip amidst all this beauty that surrounds us? Many more times then we would admit to ourselves… Many times we struggle in the beauty of a day to sit in the sun basking in the delight with the eye of the night… A dark place in the midst of wonder… The garden of my dreams has dark places… they are there because I placed them there as I thought, wished and dreamed… They are bits of reality… bits of what is or could be… they level the effects of my imagination at times necessary and at times potent reminders of what this life is now and will be for me… Yet Never do they control the process in witch I dream for more then a brief passage… Necessary for me to have they are for without them I would truly be a dreamer… without a reality to stand on… with them totally I would be a realist without a dream to believe in… I tend to prefer the dreamer who has a basis in reality to move with… The spring time air breathes life into my thoughts… Spring is the passion for life we all have inside us… Spring is the promise fulfilled we dreamed of in the cold of winter… The setting sun rises once more to illuminate the earth with its beauty… to show off the colors of spring in flowers, the leaves of trees the splendid array of colors held tight in the grip of dormancy… A reminded for us to see the promise within us… to step forward to fill the glass of life to the brim… to take on what we have learned and to use it in a positive sense… Beauty is in the beholder’s eye seeing behind the walls we build, behind the false hoods we cover ourselves in… behind the words we speak or the actions we take… beauty sees us for who we are… in the hue that surrounds us…

Stirred once more from the warm confines I wander to my tasks… driven in a sense to sit upon the ledge of my ways… The artists hands quivering to find a place in witch to write… A new medium calls or does it really? Just another brick to toss across the bridge of time that separates us… You read what I write and I write what I sense inside me… The words find their way from me to you and yours find a way from you to me… a connection that has bridged the open space… Some times I get lost when I slip into this void… lost in the beauty that shines across from the other side and I say things that I should keep inside for they are words that confuse and some times trouble the mind… the intent of witch is to give meaning to the forces of life you feel about you… about me… the hue that shines and inspires me to dream such things… Knot always a good and wondrous thing… knot always a bad thing… I once thought of it a s evil in some ways… that it was a part of me that I should cut off much like a cancerous limb… I know it to be a beautiful part of who I am… an expression of passion that was dormant for a very long time… I sit in joy with it and bathe in its energies… One cannot speak of such wonders without smiling… without laughing inside with tears of joy streaming down my cheeks I whisper in your ears and touch your shoulders and caress your cheeks and wish with all my heart… from far away… with the sun rising… with the setting of the sun… with the warm rains and the cold snows… we are as we have always been and always shall be…

The journey once more appears before me… The tasks at hand wondrous in nature… I sit here in the still nests of the morning listening to the sounds of Sunday coming alive slowly… more slowly then at any other time… This day has much and while I am stirred to its delight I am weary with its demands… A sort of silly confusion…

Erie words are exchanged… knot for the words themselves as words are just the letters formed to make them… but for the effects they have upon us as we read them… Some answer questions we have knot of yet asked any one but ourselves… some ask the questions we have stirred in our hearts without speaking for years… I some times wonder why we are faced with quests… I some times wonder why we meet who we meet along the way we choice to go… I some times wonder why we choose to go the way we choose to go… The answers appear to us as we wander along… in the people we meet… in the events that occur… in the words we inspire… the words we write, we speak we think… in that Erie silence… we begin to real eyes that there is magic at work here… some would say it different… some would say it was God’s work… of the work of the God’s or some such sayings… there are as many of those as there are Gods to assign to anyone religion… I use the term magic… for me it seems that expression works the bestest… the most interesting way of saying that along this way though it is Erie to think of at times it is interesting to take note of the wonder as it happens… the answers to questions not asked yet appearing… a person stopping by on the way to some where else that opens an opportunity to alter a situation just so… learning of a new way to bridge a difference… to open up your eyes to new possibilities and to find peace along the way you have chosen… Sitting on this Sunday morning I take notice of the peace that stirs within me… amidst all the chaos of the world I am at peace… with who I am and what choices I have made… Erie it may be… strange at times it may seem… use full and wonder filled these moments are…

The mountain is almost topped and soon the slide down will begin… My sand castle has risen up on my shore line and survived the ravages of the rising tide once more to be baked in the delight of the day… I sit for a time as I do each morning and wander with my imagination… I like to let it wander… for without that I would probably be quite boring… I can see the shore… and place in the sand… embrace the waves and fall exhausted upon the sands of time waking up to eyes that shimmer and laugh… I can see a smile as it crosses the lips of a reader on the other side of this ball as it spins towards another day long before I even begin to awaken… Strange my words are at times and wondrous are the words we share in the silence of this place… I sit holding a hand in mine and looking into their eyes I see the beauty that is inside them stirring out in a new hue… The artists hands you have… the artists ears… the artists joy… We each have a gift we share and while I am sitting here sharing yours and drinking in the passion, the inspiration, the fantasy of time, space and wonder… I do wonder… and I smile a lot… whispering so that maybe your ears can hear… what I whisper I donut write… what I whisper I donut let go of… I keep a peace of that with me… it is part of what we knew as children… and part of what we knew in lives before this… and part of what we will need in lives we have yet to live… this time is nearing an end… for it is a small window of opportunity that I see through…

A cool morning this is… the coolest of times… the night will bring more waves of cool air but for now the day promises sun warm breezes and the delight of play… A cool morning awakens us to the day and awaken we must… The slow process of bring forth words and music… is upon me… the musical part is easy for I lend myself to the tunes… the words however are a struggle… I write what I sense and that is not always the easiest of things to speak about… There is happiness and joy in each day… more so then what we would wish to believe… it is easier some times to live the struggle then to accept the place we are and begin to change… our lot in life is knot sewn in the stones of our being… we can rise above who we are… to become who we are destined to be…

A pair of docks swings in the cool morning air… the water rushes under each in turn swaying them with the influence… One rises then begins to fall as the other begins its rise… settling in once more as the other begins its decent gently swaying itself to rest… Exact places are never reached… unless one is with… or has reached out beyond the state they are in… In time all things move… all things are in flux or motion towards some place… That is the nature of time… a move mint to be savored over an experience… The day dawns as the knight settles in… a difference of time… counted in ours… a hand across time holds those veil moments for a brief interlude… freezing the frame… One side edges close enough to catch a glimpse of the other side just as it settles in… and then stands watch for a time… in the glow of the rising sun… The circle of life as it passes… the glow of a life being lived as it extends its rays as far as the eye can perceive to glance on another… The distance while knot near is close when touched by the music one plays inside…

The air is filled with silence… Saturday morning has settled in… the dogs sleep… the family sleeps and I with the sound of my own fingers against the keys am doing what I do best in the early morning… In thoughts I string a message across the open space… and while I know there is no answer that will satisfy my soul there are words I hear whispered in the dark at the edge of each day that move out of the forest of my dreams and take refuge inside my heart… What plays across my hands is the illusion of a some day… a fantasy of a tomorrow… a gentle nudge… my mind wishes and takes hold grasping the words I write as if they have a body and soul… they are the spirit of me sent out in the silence of the morning air to find you where ever you may be and to touch upon your ears with my thoughts… In the morning I delight in awakening to your smile… and in hearing the soft whisper in my ears… The stirring of such things cleanses me and makes me wonder some times about who I am… or who I would have been if things were altered just slightly… These are easy times to let the imagination run wild… they are difficult times to be in the real world and yet we must exist in both places at the same time giving over to each one as is necessary… Aware of the life we lead in both and yet longing for a life in the other a bit more at times… There is magic in what we do… magic in the art of smiling, magic in the joy of laughter… magic in the way we touch across space and time… This is all part of some thing… part of a plan we will figure out in time… Until such time that I am enlightened I have learned to accept the demands of fate, the path of destiny and the laughter of the Gods as part of the day… When I am most aware of these things is when I hear your voice awaken me… A kiss to the ears to in joy the day… and each day I sit in joy with you on my lips… you on my mind and you in my soul… You are the passion that drives my words to life and the subject of my masterpiece…

Balance is struck… balance is achieved at each place we are… even in times of imbalance we are held upright in some ways while teetering on the edge in others… We all fall down at times… when the forces of science, nature and life happen upon us to knock or to perform their ways to us… Life is a series of these events… a rising… a falling… a stepping forth in a new awareness of what we have achieved by the simple fact of life… Each morning we rise our selves up from our slumber to wash away the time spent resting for another adventure in wishing… another journey of fantasy… In the spring all is possible for we bare witness to the flowers that have survived winter… we are witnesses to the green of the trees and the colors of nature as they awaken from the blanket winter… These are wondrous times… times of rebirth and awareness… from this place we strive forth a smile on our lips and a sense of purpose in our hearts…

Time passages… places where we are witness to other times… a flow of memories exists in each opening in the fabric of time… We can step back and be there for a moment in our minds flooded with thoughts, the touch, the feel, the smell and the sounds of that place in time… Power filled thoughts are these for they drive us and cultivate us in ways we never imagined… Such is the power of a light that burns inside… The tasks of life are limitless… The journey we are on while limited in some ways by our mortality is endless in its possibilities of choice… Time opens the door and we step inside the opportunity as it knocks taking to us another way to reach… another way to enter or exit… another place to call home… another avenue to wander down and see what visions are before us as we do… Such is the passion of life as it adorns your eyes… your ears and your heart… The test of time is the passing of time… while keeping the memory close and delighting in the passion of today… creating a memory of today that is as passionate as the ones of yesterday…

The smell of air cooled by the morning mist… the smell of vanilla… of salt in the air… the feel of sand under ones toes… all things equal in time… all fragrances to remind me of some one some where… They are the messengers of time, of desire, of passion… they are the fruits of our labors as we sift the joy smiling… with laughter on our lips exchanged in delight we sing… out in voices silent to the real world… know one hears us and taking the time escorts the whispers to another time and place in witch we dance to the sounds we make… we sing to the songs we in joy creating… These are the times we wish for… the times we bathe in… the times we are lost in thought delighting in the sounds of wonder we create by our words, by our smiles and by our laughter…

The rain is king… for it refreshes the lands on which we live… the moisture it brings plays with our passion… plays with our childish nature… a walk in the warm rain… a journey in the embrace of life… water is the source of life to us… it is mostly what we are… time and time again the rain revives us from the edge of our being… cleaning away the effects of a days journey or a nights slumber to open our eyes to the possibilities that exist… The rain is king… and we are the servants to this king… this natural wonder…

Knot much does when we sit and wonder… Knot much makes sense out of the context in which we do what we do… That is one of the ways we look back and see… a perfect 20/20 view… all the facts now before us how did we do what we did when we were there? Sight is a gift that the blind possess some times better then the ones who have it… I was blind though I have sight… I was deaf but I hear… I was dumb but I possess the power to speak… At one point or another in time if you have lived a full life you will find yourself in these places… Makes know sense at all and in hide sight perfect sense… witch to a degree is the sense we see most things with a sense of humor… It does take time to calm the seas of frustration… and laugh at ones erring ways or Miss Calculations of what was before them…

When the magic is stirred inside it takes a few days to cool… as the sounds of silence wrap themselves about me my mind cools and the desire that boiled finds its place once more in my heart… The trip of time takes this toll collecting the memories, the dreams and the wishes and finding a good place for them to rest… and rest they will for a time… until opened by some one else this box of thoughts will be hidden in the ark hives of my being… hidden in the forest of dreams for only one another to share…

This is only real while we believe it to be… then it becomes unreal for a time… Unreality in a sense is the reality of life for a time… Having spent time on both sides of the fantasy fence I will take the unreal over the real any time… Words seem to find me in the unreal easier then they do in the reality… In the real world I struggle to find the write ones while in this state of fantasy I can roll them off my fingers quite easily… A simple state of mind…

Wrapped in the morning air dawn rises to greet the delight… She sits beside the eastern shores for a time suspended at the edge peering over the calm waters… The air sparkles… takes to life with cool breezes and the promise of the day that spreads out before the dawn… Wrapped in the delight we step forth awakened by the promise of possibilities and endless opportunities we venture forth… a smile to grace the day… a laugh to pierce the sounds of silence… music to the ears of those that we encounter…

Foolish I am at times… foolish to sit on this hill… foolish to sit in the room with a view of working machines… foolish to sit in a fantasy state… a foolish heart… a foolish mind… a fool who dreams is the worst kind of fool… A fool in love is excused for their wanderings… I am all around the world… a fool who traverses time and space to write a bit… I sit in a foolish way atop a hill watching over the child in me…

Fortune favors the foolish… or so it seems… the foolish seem to find a way to get to the end of the line faster then the diligent… I stepped forth and wrapped myself in a blanket of wonder… It was hue that transfigured me… that changed me… nothing compares to you in that regard… It was a time when the best of me wished to find a way out… and while this has not always been the best way it has been the best of ways… the best of times… the best of what I can be finds its way to these pages… Nothing compares to the smiles, the laughter, the simple joy since that moment in time… It was easy… has been since that day… and I suspect will always be easy… I am who I am because you are who you are to me… I am this person because you cared… enough at times… you found a way… when I pass on to the other side my life will wear the joy of what we share… each day I sit here… typing away… some days the words are best left to fodder and some days they inspire… but every day they are written with you in mind… you inspired me to be this artist… this painter with words… In a sense I can blame you for all this and the two crates in my attic filled with correspondence… This is all your fault… and I love every inch of you for that…

Get down row, row, row… A purpose exists… the way you are on is the way you are on… If there is a better way… you will find it eventually we all do… I never said I was leaving you… I am more stubborn then that and believe me there are those that are more difficult to deal with then you… I have the distinct impression that you prefer knot to speak but would rather write… at least for a time… Maybe that is the underlying sense that I get… as frustrating as this medium is some times it gives us a wide berth when we need one…

We can go for a walk with Miss Interpretation, Miss Understanding, Miss Information if we like or we can kick their asses the hell out of the way… Time to heal old wounds, time to accept who and where we are and time to start moving… There are days and there are nights… there are times to remember and times to put behind us… The bridge is built on solid foundations even though it moves it supports and holds one to the other… The path we stroll is plenty wide enough… Patience is a virtue… it is a gift I donut possess… but then I have learned from years that I cannot always get what I want… I have though always gotten just what I needed… even when I disagreed with what the Gods had in mind for me at the time…

All there is, is what there is… I wish some times there was more to give… it is what it is… and while I don’t know… a lot about any one thing… I probably know a little about a lot… Crazy… is a s crazy does and while that may be sew it is also true that crazy is all in perspective of the one who is witness to it… I am unaware of the strange for all seems “normal” to me… what ever normal is that is for it does change from day to day… Normal to day will seem very odd in a few years time… all we need to do for that perspective is look at old home movies from our parents time… This is me in a nutshell… a large one to fit me… but still it is as simple as that and as difficult… ode to the joys and the sorrows… ode to the wonders…

I sit in wonder… I sit often and imagine what would be different… I imagine the lives I once led and how the effects of those lives have appeared in this life time… The abilities I have, the need to be away from… to be near… The forest of my dreams calls me and inside that special place I find you… among the others there are a select few that seem to rub easier… It is the few of us that ring a true tone… all for one… one for a time… always separate never as one shall any of us be without the others… as we find each one we put another brick in the wall, another piece in the mosaic of our lives… another peace settles in us… and we come to grasp the life we have a bit more easily… Over time we have ways we follow and ways we dream… when the dream becomes the way we start to believe… the best is to believe so that we may dream… believing allows us the path way to see the changes occur… to feel them acutely in our every day lives…

Among the wild and free the crows are counted… the birds fly to and from the nesting places along the edge of the river that carries so many dreams… sew many more roads lead to home then imagined… it is said that when one gets far enough from home they are headed back home once more… I sense it inside me… that home is the place of dreams and home exists when I open the doorway to let in the others who make up that home for me… home is the sacred place in time, space and sense…

I quest for the perfect place along the line… The perfect spot on the way to where I am going… I quest to be at the perfect place at the perfect time… to do what is right and to leave what is left behind me… I am a quiet man of simple ways… seems funny to say it that way but what other way is there to say what is true… Time swings open the door ways of ones imagination… time steps forth to dance with us… Believe it or knot… the challenge for me is to remain silent… to keep the words I wish to share inside the confines of my soul… To step back is a difficult way for me… I some times wonder while wandering about… the power of magic fills the air between… in a moment’s time… the edge will take me… I will slip over my own imagination into the dreams of another’s…

Stopping bye once more to sing a song or to row, row, row the oars home once more… in the tranquil lights of evening… or the hours of anticipation before dawn… home is just across the bridge of time… to lay me down once more… Together or separate there is a chain that binds us one to the other… spoken or unspoken the words find a mark… the whispers of the four winds tell us the way… just listen to them… It is a journey a leap with Faith… besides woman are smarter in most every way…

A gentle reminder of time… the space in the between times of racing from here to there… a stroke of good luck… a minor challenge to seize upon… If we are to make the most with the least we smile for in smile rides a wave of desire… a wave of passion for the fruits of life that dwell in the valleys before us… I am once more on a roll heading for a some place other then the place I am… Having taken my time to devour every single inch I want to have more and I return each morning to kiss the dawn upon your eyes… to gently shake you to awareness… to breathe the first breaths of the day in unison with you… a smile graces my lips as I wet them in anticipation of the taste… of this new day…

A shinning sun… a cloud white stands apart of the sky… rolling with the efforts of the wind… a tumbleweed in the air it rolls, rolls, rolls… Momma take this from me… I wonder aloud… at the fullest stretch of my lungs… I hear the knock of time upon my chest… I feel the effects of age creep inside me… I am used to the aches, the pains, the morning stretch to open the door… The creative me is still in child like play… Sand castles to build with old friends… waters to roll in… waves to crash over us as we embrace and play… the cold… the rain… the snow… warmed by our desire… a fire burns within us shared in the embrace of it we linger far to long and in joy walking, running, swimming and playing…