As perfect as we are… we still seek out the best in what we see in others… As perfect as we dream there are still dreams to dream that are better then the ones we have already dreamt… perfection happens for we are in reality imperfect… yet we dream of things in perfect ways… the perfect note… the perfect song… the perfect opportunity… the perfect one to listen… the perfect one to another… each happens not from the perfect plans but from the chaos of life… we are the gifts we are because we are willing to share our imperfections…

Reserves of thought flicker awake… the dream or memory recalled… a shore a cold bit of the water’s edge… the heat of the day cooled by the breeze off the water… the sand a counting of the annals of time piles up… for each grain is a second… slipped in our glass it fills us… each grain is also a memory of that second… a recollection we can call on to sea the shore once more… to feel the sand… to wish… to dream… to ponder such joys as we wish to… a place to sit and listen curls us inside the blanket of time… this place… this rock… this beach… this wave… or sandy shore we are of where we have been… unsure of where the next wave will leave us washed up on another shore enough to be unsure and willing to ride the high crest to sea the wonders… to feel the exhilaration of the ride… the wind in ones face the thrill of the adventure… reserves of thought catch us and pull us in reminding us of the wonder we are… the gift is in the memories of these grains of sand…

To venture forth into another’s world… to step out of ones mind and into another’s… a little unsettling at times… a bit frustrating at others… the language is what it is for it is of the mind that you are in knot of the mind that reads it… a web of interest… a curious stage set apart from others yet hidden in the shadows calls out… we notice those of us who wander the off side ways… quiet we are… yet we notice the call that fate rings in our ears… aware I am of some things and unaware I am of others for I trust the hand of fate way to much… the adventure for me is in doing… in placing the words one day at a time into the journals of time… a grain of sand… a memory worth keeping… I have been left behind… by some followed by others… walked with by a few and held by two… she escapes me and she does knot… he eludes me and he does knot… who stays and who goes is a mystery… places to ponder… points to consider… alternatives to approach from different directions… this is choice at its very best…

Imperfections are perfect in that they bring forth one from the shadows of many to stand out… it is our imperfections that others find suit them perfectly… while we strive at times to correct what we consider to be an imperfection it is that imperfection that another strives to obtain… Our dreams are perfect for they are limitless in range and we some how have the abilities already to accomplish what they portrait… the reality of the world is that we cannot always have who we fall in love with… that life will twist us and turn us… and fate will place us in perfect position to make a difference and we will miss it… we will find love in the strangest of places only to lose it in the best of times… we will dream of perfection and find the wonder of imperfection and remember those as the best of the other person we hold dear… Imperfections are our perfect in the eyes of love… in the compassion of friendship… in the joys of companionship… the little small details of me or you is the glue that cements a bond that exists over time… a life time of togetherness is forged with such treasures… the treasure of imperfections shared… rejoiced in…

The mystery intrigues or the words pulls ones mind to wonder..? Mysteries have that way about them… a bit of mystery lets the mind wander off to indulge a fantasy… the fig mint of your imagination pulled in a direction… pushed in another… swirled about in the colors of the rainbow to let splash in the polls of ones own dreams… One anticipates a response… opening the package they wonder who is behind this..? Questions flood the mind and yet they are answered without question… a balance of knowing and wondering allows one to set their imagination free… and design the image for who speaks to them… there is more joy in such a give and take then one can imagine for eventually the truth comes forth… the person behind the mask of words is revealed… as the spirit of time allows… The day calls out… the sun rising in the eastern sky… a day to seize… a bit of mystery to unfold…

Dots… the connection of one though to another without the wonder of punctuation… follow the lead and wonder… I have knot have to splain myself Lucy in a long time to any won or two… and bee that as it may be soon enough eye will leave that to be as it is… for the dots are my style of writing as it well could be yours… they say that like minds think alike and sow it is possible some of the same seed fell into your fields and hue also began to glow with the same creative impulse… Imagine that… Tiggers are the only ones for they are singular… the rest of us have to deal with similarities that bring us together or force us apart depending on the push or the pull of things… they of course are knot your dots exclusively as they are not my dots… they are just a poetic way of stringing thoughts along the same line… allowing your mind to wonder… to reach out into the world and see a reflection of what we do returned to us in vivid colors… Imagine that… I guess there isn’t just one… there are more then one and that means that even though the same style is used it is different in the way that it is used… just when you think you are unique some one goes and does the same thing… and now we are faced with change or being considered part of a group or cult even of dot users… My Godde Lucy… we may have to adapt a new style… or just go on being the radical dot users we always have been and forget that we even considered it to be any different then it is at all… for confusion is a way of dealing with the chaos of life and why bother… for we are imperfect in our perfect perceptions and it is these little dots that make us just sow perfect to one… and crazy to another… knot many can follow this line of logic for it is illogical and weaves a pattern of colors that some will find colored in darkness while others see the rainbow in the mosaic that painted them… time to pick up ones pallet and ready the colors for the dots are changing… maybe a different shade…

The comforts of home… the memory of tucks and warm blankets and pillows so soft and fluffy… a cup of some thing that warms the heart and sets the mind to glow… a child we are always to our parents for while we grow in the face of reality we are always the child they held, they nurtured and who they still hold close in their hearts… The truly great ones know the secret of life in setting the free bird free… in giving life the endless boundaries to find their own way… to let them struggle and find highs and lows… to let them wander home once in a while to feel the warmth of love… there is an endless joy in home… in returning to the comforts we find there with them… if only for a time for after a time they do push us into a mold they see us in… a mold we broke out of long ago… while it is nice to visit it is impossible to live there… in joy the love and the comforts… in joy the warm bed and the soft pillows and then in joy your freedom once more… for the bird inside seeks a different path…

Think in terms of creation and know that Godde has a sense of humor… the platypus… the sloth… need we say more… The Bible is a book… a very good book… a book people should read and refer to… but one that people should realize was written by men… after many years as an oral tradition… There is a lot of interpretation in the Bible that is forgotten… yet there still remains in its pages a great deal we can use in our every day lives… Yes, Godde has a sense of humor… She created us… that can only be done with a some what interesting sense of humor… I can imagine the Godde with now laughing as I attempt in my feeble use of the language to explain this… I can imagine what he doesn’t know can fill volumes… being spoken… and it is true… what I don’t know can fill volumes… what I know at all I feel… at the same time I believe Godde is saddened by our greed… our lack of compassion and our natural tendencies to violence as a solution… we are angry and fear filled… we live our lives collecting… instead of sharing… Godde does have this sense of humor that allows for us to exist for by now She would have erased the board and stated all over… Patience, love, compassion… a never ending desire to see us succeed… we could knot ask for more then we have yet we do… we ask for everything to be at our finger tips… and when we have that we ask for more then that… we are never satisfied and we wish everyone to believe as we do… Godde laughs at our inability to grasp the larger picture… love one another as I love you… with that in mind it is easy to feel the laughter of Godde within you… it is what makes you glow…

The harder the knock… the harder one must knock in return for the knock that knocked them… in some ways the school is for those who needed to learn a lesson they were missing at some other cross road in time… It is true we all hit the course loaded at one time for one subject and run head long into the knock of another we were ignoring while it was obvious to the casual observer… such is life people say… live and learn… knock harder next time so that opportunity hears you…

Harmony the balance of things centered in side one… it is the jar filled with rocks… gravel… sand and water… put them in, in the right order and they all fit… but place them in incorrectly and some will be left out… That is the harmony we live… the perfect fit… at some point in time our reactions to the world change… we grow out of things we used to do and into things we now do… our bodies change… our interests change… our minds develop… we grow to appreciate the small expressions we ignored as children… for those were the best of times… as are these the best of times… seeing life as the best of what we can do right now is an art… it is a perception of living that most fall away from… having learned all of our lives to sort for what is wrong many find the perception of right an illusion they must point out… Harmony balances the pro with the con the Ying and the Yang… the left and the right… knot that all things must be equal… for there is a proper way in a life to live that is good and pure and right for that life… the harmony they experience is different then the harmony I would or you would… that is the element of harmony that is unique for it is an element that is specific knot universal… the harmonies of one combine to form a harmony of many… each a specific note of harmonic resonance… that when mixed properly sing out… find your note and let it resound from within… it is that note that pulls other towards the hue that glows…

We is a combination… a stirring of minds… an expression of thoughts combined with other thoughts… a mixture… an ingredient of life that is rich with spice and taste to the tongues that sample its wonder… We is a special combination of the singular eye… for we is more then one… more then the singular it is an expression of more… an expression of a willingness to compromise to be open to others ideas… we is an expression of a point of view… an expression of similarities seen in others eyes and faces… we is a smile that is shared across the space of a room or the world at large made small… we are the world and we are the expressions of that world in witch we decide to be involved in… we are the colors of the rainbow to some one… an inspiration to another… a fantasy to another… a pupil to another… a teacher to others and still we are not through for each sees us as part of the we… part of the expression of us as we are and can be… some hold us on a pedestal while others may see us as equal partners… we is an expression of love and caring for the person behind the mask… the one that is seen with the eyes of the heart… we is a combination of emotions that are poured out in measured amounts and then unburdened in a torrential wave… we is a high that we dream about and a low that never happens… we is a spiritual journey from the singular eye to the multiple joys of sharing… we is sacred, special and loving… cherish the we you have and seek to find more… for each is a jewel that we wear…

There are periods in every life we wish we could get a do over on… I have yet to meet some one who does knot dream of doing so in some way… Still we are the people we are due to those experiences… and maybe that is what we needed to learn… some of us got over the fence… if not for the grace of Godde go I… When I look back and remember there are some that didn’t make that fence and who are no longer here with us because the course of their life times shifted… they gave up on themselves and on life… The strong survive but they are not always the physically strong… they are the ones most capable of change… the ones able to adjust to the world around them… it is not easy to do so… but the choice is… life or death is an easy choice… yet I am surprised at how many choose death…

We all face the road we are on in different ways… so much of our lives is a search… a journey to find ourselves… to become comfortable with who we are and to find that special some thing that our spiritual self calls us to be… I have been on many of those such journeys and each one ended in my own back yard… knot that the adventure was useless for it was the tasks along the way that opened my eyes to what others already knew was there… I found two universal truths for me every time I go I learn them along with learning that I possess skills I was unaware of… the two that are always there I express as… one… You are the gift… that is we the person of us are the gift we search for… it is knot some skill or special attribute we have but the sharing of who we are with others in the most constructive ways we can… the other is… when dealing with others seek the Godde within… for Godde dwells within each soul you meet… some times to teach and some times to learn…

Religion is a strange topic and I can go off on it for hours I suspect… I was raised Catholic… In an Irish home… and I say that because while I remain there I have very different views on religion then most Catholics… I am open to the opinion of others… I believe in self awareness and the sanctity of one… that I am capable of reaching the Godde of my father without the guiding words of another… The institution of religion has long since stepped past being a conduit to Godde… it is more of a business of control then a business of spiritual awakening… I am more spiritual… more of the mind that we are capable of finding our Godde in the way that is best for us… I started spelling the word God as Godde a while back after reading and doing some research into other religions… Many see Godde as a father figure… a male… some see Godde as a mother figure…a female… a rather interesting debate occurs when we step away from the fiction into the reality of men… while for some it matters greatly to me it never mattered… for the most part it is easier in many ways to believe… If we are made in the image and like ness of Godde that is man as expressed in the Bible then really He should have used a better mold… The female form is much more majestic… much more loving and compassionate… but that is the power of a belief… and if I choose to arrange my beliefs in a particular way then what does that matter as long as the expression of that is kept to the core of what is behind all this… witch for me is don’t get caught up in all this ritual crap… take care of one another… love one another as Godde loves you… get beyond the differences and rejoice in the diversity of people I have spread across the world…

I believe Godde has a wondrous sense of humor so they created religion and gave each a separate version or vision and set us free to figure out if we could find the common threads to pull it all together… I am sure they are still sitting there going… after all this time they still haven’t figured it out… humans… maybe we should have given the horses more sense… so they can kick them… religious people get so caught up in themselves they forget that there are other people with alternative points of view… so it goes with religion… so it goes with politics… so it goes with people who forget they are people and only see the cover and not the rich thoughts that are under the façade… judge me by what you see do you..? well if you do you will miss what is behind the mask… behind the walls and bridges and dams built to keep out those who have knot the strength to make such a journey…

Often we search… we reach out in all directions to find some thing… a glimmer of hope perhaps or a voice to hold onto… we walk a path that leads us to places to people that we learn from… to lessons we will teach as we go… the search continues day upon day… opening our minds at times closing it at others… the experience of life unfolding as the gift is unwrapped… the present… this day… this morning filled with anticipation of what we dreamed about… is here… it is finally here for us to share… to experience in the reality of this now… we search and we wish for changes and opportunities… at times we are unaware of them… for the knock of opportunity is some times as soft as the wind… we search for some thing… when we have some thing… the tunnel is long and dark and if we illuminate the passage we do find that there is more to this path then first met our eyes…

Let her be she said… let her be… the words whispered in my ears… across the time of many life times I hear that voice… time and again… I know her and she knows me… an image of wonder she travels with me a constant thought at times… from far away she has that magic that opens my eyes… she is part of me… as I am part of her… a spirit that guides me… still much more… a thought that at some point she was the parent to me who saw beyond the child… touched with magic she is and from the depths of the past she is able to reach me… in dreams mostly… but on occasion she is heard in the space of my reality… let her be… she says it as my heart ouches a bit… for I know of who she speaks… let her be… seems to be a constant theme of late for while I am knot doing some thing I am knot doing what I should… the best of me is trapped in the worst of me… a conflict of interest… maybe… mostly a conflict of passion… for the muse is one with who she speaks and if I let her be I may loose the creative impulse that frees me… How does one give up the peace that makes them complete… that makes them whole..? Let her be she says and free thy self from her… this I say to thy with all my heart as you are flesh of my flesh and bone of my bone… ‘tis not for you to bear… nor for you to suffer with… each of us has our place in this… let her be… for it is her choice to step farther away… her choice to walk a path alone… let her be… speak from the shadows in dreams and in wishes… hold her in your mind… only as long as you need be… for the power of your desire… pushes it does not pull… the lure of your passion frightens it does not protect… let her be my son… as much as it ouches… as much as your heart pulls you… let her be… she does knot over stand the love you send to her… for give her for she is blind to such things… such emotions… wrap yourself in the comfort of your place… in the dreams… in the wishes… in the warmth of her from what once was… let her be in this place and time… she needs the space…

Shared are the thoughts easily and some times even poetically… Specifics some search for while others search for more general things… general in a sense that I am open to explore with anyone what they wish to explore… questions are the door way to know more… they some times lead to answers that others wish knot to hear… Care full I am to ask them in such a way as to keep the door ways open to those who are care full… cautious… some ant to know the specifics and once found flee the answers they receive… I have found much of what I searched for… found it where it always was… in my own backyard… The great soul search yielded what the voices in my head had always said that I refused to believe… hue are the gift they said… found that out after a few years of looking in all the places I believed my talents to be hidden… found the love of my life times and lost them… only to find them once more scattered about the world… I have found much…

There are times… when even the most experienced find themselves in binds… I in joy words and ambiguity… I developed this odd style of writing over time encouraged by a special some one to seek out my creative impulse… to share the thoughts… has come recently… computers make it easy to remain hidden… I am at my best in such ways… a silent worker of ideas… It is knot that I refuse to let people know who I am… I am just care full knot to let it known right away… that comes from experience… You will find more of me in the words I write… then in an explanation of me… by me… in time we all reveal ourselves… I don’t ask for such things because I sense it… people will knot write to me if they are not of a certain mind set… if they are not open to writing or of sharing thoughts… they label me a nut and go off… I am more of what I write then you would imagine if meeting me… In person I am distant shy and unassuming… I am usually passed over… over looked… by past in the shadows of experiences… yet I am there in the those same shadows playing at getting the flowers to come off the walls for I know deep down how terrible it feels to stand at a distance from others wanting to approach frozen in fear… wanting some one to talk to… You asked what I was searching for… I find it every day… with every note I send out with each response I get… I connect with some one who fate has led me to… and I take that opportunity to say a few words… in the hope that I get what fate intended me to and they get from me what fated intended me to send… there is a reason I may never grasp it or even be aware of it consciously but it is there…

All life is balanced… for each wonder there is a reason… for each season a change… the days open up shedding sun on the winter swept lands… the warmer breezes bring a promise of new life… with them there is the sprinkling of pollen that renews the trees… the flowers… the grass the earth itself… at some point our eyes, ears and noses become accustom to the change and we begin to know the difference… time and temperature bring to the earth… cold days spent in deep thought will open up to warmer days in pleasant activities… stirring the mind to be out of doors… out of the confines of home… still the pollen traps us as much as the mountains of snow… as much as the driving rain or blowing winds… we are trapped by the change to our system working over time to protect us… a reaction to the changes in the seasons… a preference for the cold days of fall and winter begins to fill our minds… all life has balance… a give and a take… the circle of life revolves each day… we are filled with awe at the spin and movement in time… we are imprinted with the wonder… to rise and be part of the day… as much as the effects of nature try top hold us back we can push forth… there are some wonder full ways of dealing with what nature places before us… we need only put them behind us now…

The day starts slowly… the balance of what needs to be and what I wish to be… so it goes… the time arrives eventually to sit and to share a word in the balance of things set before me… The game of life… plays out in the realm of reality as well as in the fields of our dreams… Many images and places of contemplation exist for me… each has its own purpose in my life… with different people the images take on special meanings that work best for me… I can find peace where ever I am… in the most chaotic situation or the most peace filled… I am my own peace… the call of natural places makes the reconnection easier… if there is water… there is peace… the one theme in all my images is water… the ocean is one at dawn or dusk or some times on a quiet afternoon where the winds blow warm and easy… water falls have a special place in my heart… as do peace filled lakes or gentle flowing rivers or streams… each image projects me to some ones who fill a void that exist inside me… they are the peaces that make me complete… for the mosaic of me is a collection of others ideas and wishes… my dreams are the same as others… and we share them… This day started slowly in a deep reflection of the sun rising as I drove… trapped in its glow… the smells of spring time stirring… the joy of the open air… the smell of memories beginning to churn from winter’s nap… this day is a magical day… one that will be etched in my heart…

There is a person behind the words… a true creature of flesh and blood… My ideas describe me… and for a time the illusion of me is important for others to consider… my likes and dislikes… my history… my poetry… my experiences all come together in this place… the music of my mind plays out in the words I write… Who am I really..? In many ways I am sure enough to be unsure of who it is behind this mask I place in front of the “real” me that I show to others… You ask a difficult question… one that appears easy enough and one I will attempt as best I can to answer…

The day started slowly… she moves with a slowness a purpose to every step… the pace slowed to a crawl at times frustrating the mind… taunting me… playing with me in a way… teaching me… an instruction in patience… a lesson in slowing down the way of things and seeing the beauty in the every day… learn we do from each touch… from each nudge, push, bump, sound… we experience… a bit of the harmony… a bit of what we knew in our hearts… a song to sing… a song t6o write… a song to listen to while others find their way… a slow path… language spoken in slow wistful tones… whispered promises… gentle reminders… a stroke of the luck we all carry with us… there are walls to climb and hills to traverse in our life times… every so often we need to slow down the pace of things to remind ourselves of the wonder that exists in today… the beauty of the dawn… the setting of the sun the heat of midday… the light the dark… the circle of life moving past your eyes…

The creative me is challenged… challenged to find the path… a way in witch to best express the mood or range of moods I find myself in around stepping through… In humorous eyes I flounder from side to side… unable to keep my balance long enough to stand still… off balance and swaying to the sounds of music within my own being… neither one deals with the other as well as with one of the like order and mind… they are the same yet different… diverse in the ways of reaching the same end they cannot share the simplest of things… forced to live under one roof they cling to themselves cloistered one to their own levels of comfort… the charity seems to be missing…

Many are called and few choose to answer such a call… it is for me a reaching out beyond the usual parameters to seek alternatives… poetry is the motion of ones words… the lyrics of their heart… played on the instruments of another’s imagination… it is what in essence what the words bring to another’s mind that inspires the poet… for poetry is a language of symbolism and rhyme spiced with colors for the mind to unravel and form a picture with… a gentle breeze on a warm sunny morning transforms the artist… the list goes on… the inspiration has been shared…

I know longer need the gateway… yet it is still difficult to step away from what I am familiar with… in one sense why pay for what we donut use… the comfort of being transforms me slightly I am aware of change… technological change is occurring faster then I can deal with… at times I feel lost in the torrent of change flashing past me… I am running but still the mind cannot grasp it all in… the simple ways of life are being tossed away… I need to find a place where I can find the earth once more comfortable under my feet… I am stirred to inaction…

Often I am interested in how one comes upon a name… the illusion it creates… is worth much pondering… what is behind that expression one puts forth… I was once a character… then a combination of one and a container of sorts… now I am an expression of an illusion…

One feels the effects of the sun evening when it is hidden behind the clouds that provide us with the rain that enriches our souls… One feels the effects of love… even when they are not in love… for love is all around us… even when we are not in the grasp of the one love we are in the grasp of the love of life, of friendships, of family… One feels the effect of Godde in all things… for Godde is never silent… nor ever is she away from us… Godde is in all things… and in all shapes and sizes… For some Godde has a specific appearance to others the image is slightly different… Godde illuminates the mind and lifts the soul… for diversity is the key… there are many paths to reach the same end… when I wake up each day I know that Godde was not silent in the night… Godde was not sleeping… Godde was watching over each one of us… encouraging us to be the best we could be… I will knot limit any ones expression of Godde… for to me they are all beautiful… they are all wonder filled… believe in the wonder and let your heart rise to the highest high… for Godde is speaking to you… listen…

Look before your eyes and see… what we are looking for we grasp in the midst of all the other images that collect before us… Yet there are many we miss in the collection of ideas we seek… for there are many we are blind to for our eyes can only grasp hold of those things we are aware of… and so much more is there then what we are aware of… A plan gives us a direction a path to follow that excludes other paths or directions… in doing so we become blind to them for a time… for without that adjustment we could not decide… we would always be in one place mulling over ways to reach the other side… There are many types of bridges or ways to ford a river… or cross a stream… to speak to some one all the while opening up to them a peace of who you are or where you are going… Today as in any day there is chance… there is hope… fate and destiny… there is a magic in the air that speaks to us of sharing…

The power of the mind… the wonder of belief… the magic of ideas open to suggestion we take in the ideas that others have and meld them into ours… makes for interesting conversations…

Find what we are searching for we do… within the gift rests… it is hue that when shared and opened to the wonder of life frees you to know the gift… to experience the passion of life fully and completely… It is not of dreams we speak… or of religion… it is of the spirit of life… of living life not as a spectator but as a participant… Life is a dream in many ways…

A chat… a collection of thoughts exchanged across times zones or across the table… it is the voices of one or two or of many echoing back and forth… I listen to the wind whisper… and follow my heart where it leads… chat away for there is some one listening…

The length or non length of some thing says more to the time associated then to the content… but then again maybe it is a humorous change… who knows what happens to ones inspiration on some days as opposed to others… all kidding aside… we get to say what we wish… the long and the short of it… a little tongue in cheek… a lot of thanks for those who stop bye to just sit with us… there are days when the spirit lets the music fly… and days when the tunes just escape me… today was one of those days…

Nice things… fill the times… nice things… are what turns ones mind… nice things are memories that never fade… nice things are pleasant to do… A lot of nice things remind us of the beauty that exist in every single day… Many times what appears at first to be a barrier to what we wish turns us down an avenue we would knot have gone opening us to a lesson we need and an adventure in life we remember fondly… There are many nice things surrounding us each day… grasp hold of the nearest one and in joy…

While the past matters little it does present to us this day… we are here in the now because of all the yesterdays we have lived… while living in yesterday limits us… we must have a memory of where we have been to successfully move forward in time… The present of today is in living the now… living the wonder of this now that we hold in our hands… The past is the direction we have come from… it holds our lessons and our knowledge… in the past is all of our history… and inside that history is the secret of us… there we hold the gems that glow inside…

Possibilities are endless when we allow our eyes to sea them… the potential exists for one to read and another to write… for responses to be written for notes to be sent back and forth… such is the wonder of this magic… for in time each inspires a response from the other… and in time the words become more and more interesting… opening a doorway we have to choose whether or knot we want to step inside and light the darkness… there is a possibility it rests in the written word… and from that we learn about one another… there is a possibility… and it grows…

The obvious is elusive… many times I have searched for my keys only to find them where I had looked before… they were elusive to my eyes but obvious to others… the truth is elusive some times… for truth has a perceptive effect… meaning that truth depends on ones point of view… unless we are talking about a universal truth and then there is less wiggle room… beliefs on the other hand are debatable and elusive to the unbeliever of a particular belief… hair is elusive to those who have been parted from it… it is obvious to me that wealth is elusive to the rich and abundant in the poor… I guess many things are elusive… obviously…

I have yet to find a truly intelligent e-mail… I mean I get e-mails that are intelligent and thought provoking… I do get those… but some wood say that they are only intelligent from a particular point of view… hue see there fore you are capable of responding to what is before you… Many times I am blind to others… knot from a lack of eyes but from a lack of heart… of being inside my own head… Time on your hands can be alluring… He is known to really weigh one down… time is long some times and short at others… but time is who he is… a steady hand… a compass to track where we are on any given day… Now it is time to write…later it will be time to sleep… and if you have time on your hands I have time on mine… most days that is… and I enjoy writing…

Part of any plan is to in joy what we do… resting in the pleasure of accomplishment having reached ones objective… One task put aside for another day… one more to bask in the glow of having done… to flow with ease from task to task… to cleanly sweep away and make new again…

I ask very few questions… I am strange that way… I don’t mind answering questions… but I have a knack for knowing… In many ways I am blind to what others see… and then I “see” what others miss entirely… so who knows… When I do have some thing I ask… most times I prefer to create a picture of who I am corresponding with by what they have an interest in… what they desire to talk about…

Each day we awaken is a gift… what we do with that gift speaks of who we are and where we are going… While it is true we never know when death will call us to the next adventure we dream of tomorrow… Life is for living and each day is the present that was promised us with the setting of the sun… Within each day there is time for the needs and times for the creative impulse as well as for caring for the needs of those we love… time then for ourselves to indulge our passions… that is a complete day… a day to ride free with the wind in our hair and the open road before us…

Inspiration is as elusive as it is obvious… when we trip over it… what inspires me is different each and every day… some times it is the sun rising… or a memory of some one or some time… could be anything at all or nothing in particular… Inspiration is the elusive element… I learned some time ago that writing frees me… makes my day more pleasant… it is for me the creative impulse that allows my mind the freedom to think… much like any artist inspiration comes as it will… I take the time each day to write some thing… any thing and it is rare that I don’t find the time to do so… at some point in the day… I prefer the morning… for it is quiet in my world before the home erupts with activity… or the job calls me in a thousand directions… this is my private time and space… and I share it easily… what you see is a few years worth of fumbling and bumbling around… I am only a writer in the sense that I write… much like a painter who paints each day… it is what I love to do… but then what I do is free form… unrestricted… I am able to write about what I wish when I wish to whom I wish… much different then writing for a living… I am inspired by life… by the words of others… by the impression I get or reaction I receive…

Motivation is the force that pulls or pushes or more the gentle hand that guides me… It is a muse for me… an image of some one who I care for very much… they have inspired me since I can remember… a dream at times… reality at others… a memory most of the time but there are moments when the dream is more then a dream…

I am an enigma… a fig mint of the imagination… an illusion…

I am looking for some thing… searching for what eludes me… this mystery is one that remains with me… for to know some one time is required to find out… while I search for some thing I am blind to what else is there before me… I am looking for souls who like the mystery of sharing thoughts… the illusion of a mysterious person to communicate with… that are patient and like to write… I am looking for those that dream, that wish… that allow their imagination to run… I am looking for diverse minded souls who can see beyond the facades… who know that there is magic in sharing… in the combination of ideas… in the encouragement of the creative mind… that are willing to share the gift of time…

The degree to witch we recognize those around us changes… at times we are surrounded by many and lose sight of one or two in the vast multitudes of faces… In other times there is one and we are taken with that one to the exclusion of all others… a time and a place for everything… as we grow in over standing we develop a sense of balance… a degree to witch we can walk the line and take in the many as well as the few with the same focus… passion for life feeds a passion for others… what we get in return is what we give freely without expectation of a return… the bonds we forge will last if they are made to last and fit into the path that each of us must follow… time does not separate… nor does distance… only paths separate us… and each must choose one of their own and find their own way along it… The degree to witch we recognize those with us is an indication of where we are looking and for who we are searching… for when we are sure of some thing we are blind to the some thing else that is around us… and some times that blindness allows true gems to elude our grasp…

A single set of words spoken in duplicate sent over the air waves back and forth to call out the obvious to those who wait on the far shore of the crossing that is before them… each step takes them closer to the goal… and further away from the place they sat in solace once… a single set of words pushed off the journey and to this day it continues on and on for life is an endless set of time framed in life times of souls… centuries of generations that have come and gone and come again to grace the earth… the changes in one life time are astounding… one life time has yielded so much with so little… One’s imagination runs wild with thoughts of what if we had only known… but we could only know what we did until now when we know different… the knowledge of youth is wasted on the young while the wisdom of experience is some times wasted on the mature who sit when they should run… who are willing to give up instead of standing up… tired are the weary who have placed their stones upon the walk of life and ready to rest but rest is not an option we have learned this… we know this… life is relentless in its pursuit of tomorrow… tomorrow the next peace in the puzzle of life… ready to be colored and put in place along side the other daze we have collected in our mosaic… a single set of words set to music spoken or sung illuminates the day we live… how much joy can one heart bring to the other hearts they touch..?

The day dawns as any day… the night pushed back by the rising of the sun… or more the rolling of the earth to view the sun once more… shaking the sleep from ones eyes a routine of morning begins and ends… a step in the right direction… a glancing at what is left as one turns right on their way to success that speaks in silence as you walk the last few steps to sit down and begin the process of beginning today… the dream of yesterday before your open eyes unfolds… to awaken is the first wish… to live is the second… to in joy fill the day with laughter and smiles is another wish or dream we have to share… it is poetic or is that pathetic…

More is what we dream of… more is what our fantasy says we can endure… more is an illusion that we cross over and come to terms with over and over again… for more is just a little bit further then we have ever gone before and more is the place we wish to be… when faced with the joy of today we want more of that joy to spread around… more of the happiness… for the sun is behind those clouds even though it is hidden in the shadows… the light does shine though… the dawn opened the day… and it is now the present that is before us… what we do with this gift in our quest for more… is the puzzle we will peace together… there is room for more… more joy… more happiness… more love… for love is the one emotion that expands exponentially as it is given… the capacity to love is divine and that divinity exists within each one of us… in that one element of humanity we share divinity… in that one element of us we can be spiritual… more is possible for there is an unending supply of laughter… or desire of passion for life in each and every day…

Practice makes perfect… or perfect practice makes perfect… yet what is perfection that we so strive to reach it…? Perfection to you may be very different then perfection to me… A book as you know is not the picture upon its cover… that is the advertising or marketing… that is also the truth of what appears on the outside… the façade that we place before others… what is under that is what counts the most… the perfection of the covering betrays the character… flawed are we and it is those small imperfections that others find our beauty in… We are the perfection of our practices… fictional characters in our minds… a true biography our life is… a living history we walk each day… what is real and what is Memorex is asked… over and over… Who cares I respond to such inquiries… I donut care to know if the image is real inside my head for in time the fallacies will fade and the true person behind the words will come into view… being the fictional character allows the true self to be portrayed… we have no need to hide for we are safe within our world of fictional beings… or figments of illusions… of dreams and wishes…

One dance… one step at a time… silently or to the music… lost in the crowd… or alone in the spotting of the delight of another’s eye… Dance as if you were alone… dance as if no one can see… dance to the music your heart plays and you shall always be free to dance…

The road takes us where it will… and from that trail we go… alone it seems but never really true… for time and again we catch up with one or two… each has their own way to walk or to run… each keeps their own pace with the rising and setting of the sun… while I am off dreaming of sleep another is off conversing tending to the business of their day… The road takes us over hills and dips and streams… we meet on bridges or while we are crossing the street… we are the people you least expect to be aware… we are muses and we are every where… we lurk in shadows in dreams and in wishes and you know off us… you speak to us at night in the silence of your heart… you wish on the stars and grant that we play a part… so when the hand of fate directs you to this one or that… why is it we are amazed at what inspiration comes back..?

Wonder fills the void left by silence… allow in the music that sets one heart to dance… for each dance is interpreted by the dancer… for we each learn our steps alone and with one another move in sequence… There are times when we are young when we step on a few toes… Miss Stepping is there as we learn the difference of one another… the loud often hides the quality in the volume… while the soft we bend to hear clearly… Wonder fills the mind with images of such a time as when the dance we dance will be shared with souls much like ours… we are open doorways to some and closed passage ways to others… who has the keys we know knot until we meet them and when we do they change us… inspire us… bring forth the glow inside us… for the magic of a kindred kind mate easily and refresh the memory of the soul that touches us… A sense of the day ya hue… bliss full in its embrace we are taken in and wrapped in the knowledge of knowing as the façade about us is stripped away so completely we feel naked… for a second or two before we smile on the eyes that know us so… and we ease ourselves into the delight of this shared wonder… What others see they see with eyes… searching… what I see I see with my heart… a bit of the blind love reaching out and surrounding hue… the effortless embrace of times remembered… of times yet to be…

We wait… we hesitate on the road to where we wish to be… patience we are told is a virtue… sow we spend time in wait of the cresting of the moon… the rising of the sun… the sun set to set fire to the sky… we watch with anticipation the dawning of the day before us… for we have been told that there is always time… good things come to those who wait… each in their time will receive the wonder they dream of… a life time of patience… after a long winter we are impatient for the sweet smells of spring time… of fresh grass and blooming trees… we anticipate the warm breezes of summer… the gentle spring rains… the flowers in bloom and the leaves upon the trees once more… we look forward to summer nights… picnics in the park… walks along the ocean’s shore… a treasure trove of memories stored in the mind to remind us to wait to be patient with time for time arrives in his own time… wait for the magic of time… for the fabric of time… for the veil of time to lift… it is a beautiful rain that falls…

The difference in language engages the mind… opening up a possibility to communicate differently… to use skills long dormant in me… for while my skill in another language is lacking… I appreciate yours… and will do my very best to keep what I write as easy to understand as possible…

Inspiration comes from many places… a single word can inspire a sonnet… a single spark can ignite an inferno… what trips a desire into a passion..? Maybe it is a smile that inspires one to be a muse to another… a reflection in the pool of a dream that brings forth the creative impulse… Maybe it is just the seeds of a fertile imagination encouraged to grow wild and free… Maybe it is the knowledge that anything worth doing is worth doing with passion and love… Inspiration comes from many places… from a muse… a word… a song… an expression… a response to words posted… inspiration is a mysterious magic for we never truly know from where it will light upon us…

Many are called… signs are posted… requests made… many answer at first wishing to be part… questions are asked and while answers are given details are left out… a mystery forms… naturally cautious we seek to know more and when the answers are not forth coming we step away… the mystery intrigues us but also we fear the answers… we fear knowing or allowing our imagination to run free… we wish to have concrete answers… know details… the basics we speak of… male or female… age… married… single… children… what are the details of your life… are you like me or knot for I cannot speak to anyone who is knot like me… if I seek only those like me I will never receive any answer unlike my own… and what I seek are answers unlike my own… many are called and few stay the course to knowing… it is an interesting journey…

I believe that all things are possible… that we have an endless potential for knowledge… that we are capable of change… of dealing with life as it unfolds before us… I believe that time is an element of life and can be used to enhance the wonder of each and every day…

What are dreams if they cannot be shared with some one..? What are wishes if we cannot send them out to the four winds of change and wait for them to come back to us..? What are we if we live each day without the spark of imagination, the desire or passion of creativity..? What is this day before us..? An empty canvas to be filled… a river to be crossed and field to dream upon… What are we tomorrow if we do knot set in motion today our dreams for the morrow..?

The more we learn the less we realize we truly know… for in time we will master nothing… for time changes quickly in our generation and generations to come the speed of change is multiplying exponentially… So much information to grasp hold of and so much focus on the smallest of details… the most secure is insecure… the more we learn the less we truly know…

There is never an all ways… for in life there is one certainty and that is an exception to any rule we make or follow… it is the exceptions that we strive for… the ones that snap us out of our focus for a moment in time… Our minds love what is the same that is why we love routines… but we only learn when there is difference… when we are pulled from the security of our path to face a decision outside the “norm”… People look at what I write and say it is different… it is a style… a way of writing that I call my own… I shun punctuation… my ideas I allow to scatter… it is just my style my way of opening opportunities… I am know different then any other… and yet I am very different… that is what interests me… the similarities that are under the apparent differences… What is there to write about… to be inspired about… I took the word always and began… for life is never the same all the time… at times it is different and in those times of diversity we truly learn how flexible we are in adapting… There is all ways an exception… all ways change… all way converge and diverge… all ways are avenues of adventure and opportunity… all ways and paths to in joy traverse with an open mind… Sow I guess there are always we can grab hold of…

What we learn about a person colors our perception of them… some times we find answers to soon when we are not prepared to know… others times we find out too late and we are trapped or forced into a particular way… I also believe in the hand of fate… in destiny guiding us a long pathways so we bump into one another… Knowledge of our present is more situational then constant for in truth we are the gift we seek… it is the sharing of our lives with others that we enrich our own… knot a great mystery to it but some spend their lives searching for the one thing… when they have it all along… how elusive the obvious is…

Was wondering where all the ones who wish to write have gone off to… I was wondering where the ones who seek out diversity and difference have gone… I find the time and time finds me… with moments to spare… the fabric of a life time is adorned with the pleasures we send… and what better to do then to share a moment or two each day… I was just wondering where all the interested parties have gone off to…
On this corner the tide of winter has been shed and the first good indications of spring are upon us… this mornings air is cold but the promise of warmer weather sparkles with the earlier rise of the sun each day… from this corner the day unfolds with promise… A trivial thing a response is… one that some times we lose sight of as we go though each day… know one is fond of saying that ties of mystery form no binds… it is truth for we are knot bound by any notion but ones we imagine ourselves to have… one writes another responds some times that response is dated… some times immediate… in some cases the words stop… having failed to provide the needed spark required to inspire a response… such is life… for there are daze when the words will flow like rapids in a river and days when they drip as if from a leaky faucet… On this corner of the world as the sun rises so do we to greet the knew day…

Expectations feed the imagination… what was expected was knot what was taken in and while the expectation was not reached the imagination had a time playing and enjoying the trip down and back… such excursions are necessary for the mind… fruitful for the creative soul to take… for they enliven us with thoughts we would knot usually take with us… My expectations were dashed all the while I was wrapped in a thought that danced about me… cheeky or knot it played to me with me for me around me… and while the mystery of hue is miles away on another place in another time… there is still the ability to dance within the thought and glide up and drink in the warmth… the desire and the passion of a single thought… forgive me my intrusion into your dance… for at times we all like to be a part of a fantasy… part of some one imagination… the great part about being a figment is that one gets to knot be real and that unreality allows for a magical touch… that sparks a dance in the thoughts of another… My expectations were knot met in one sense but were exceeded in another… be care full what you ask for… for what you get is just what you need to be as happy as you allow yourself to be… sweet dreams…

A follow is a lead… as a lead is a following… the path before us is of our choosing… it is the way in witch we travel… each choice allows us to make more… each decision leads to other decisions and so on… each one we make on our own… allowing ourselves to have the best of all possibilities… a choice to follow leads us… as does a choice to lead follows along with us… as we shoulder the responsibility of our commitments the choice to lead or follow is entrusted to others… it remains a vital peace within us…

Imagination feeds the future of reality… without imagination there is no future… for the things we have grown accustom to using today are the objects of some one’s imagination in the past… Imagination is a vital aspect of every day living… for the vivid sense of ones imagination comes into being in the fruits of the mind used to create from nothing something use filled… Imagination is the filed of our dreams and wishes… it stirs the magic in our hearts and mind to the core of our being… It is knot with our eyes that we see or with our ears that we truly hear… it is with our hearts that we are able to absorb all the beauty that life has to offer…

There are those challenges that are good… and ones that are less then what we wished for… we all want a challenge we can master but wish never to be mastered by the challenge placed before us… Any old thing can be written about for anything is possible with words and an imagination that runs wild and free… Everything is a different story for how does one take in everything they can… a virtual impossibility for we will always leave things out… where anything is a lure… everything is a trap we cannot escape… A response is an inspiration… for your words inspired this response… that was simple, wasn’t it?

Wonder full is the wind that brings the warm arm of change… wonder full is the season that delights the mind to awaken from the slumber of winter… wonderful is the sound of another’s voice calling out welcome… wonderful is the mail box filled… wonderful is the day that dawns the sun that rises the sun that sets… wonderful are the songs we sing the music we listen to… the words that inspire us to write… wonderful is the day that is before us… wonderful is the night that we rise from to greet this new day… Wonder full is a response to words written that inspire more words to be written…

I was wondering as I searched… for each looks in places in hopes of finding another to talk with… to exchange ideas with… to write to… to open the doorway to their imagination and let it run wild for a time… we all have wishes and dreams we wish to share… and ideas on life… on the adventure of living… I was wondering if there are others who see things knot as I do but who are willing to walk a bit with me… for time allows us a bit of time to share each day… and what better way is there then to share time being inspired…

Some words are knot meant to read for a long time… as they age they take on new meaning… the eyes of the reader open… for they no longer read the words with their eyes nor do they hear the words with their ears… the letters written pull at one’s heart… opening the doorway to over standing of the writer… That is one of the many joys of writing… for some words find their way quickly to another’s heart while others takes days months and some times even years to touch another…

Some words are knot meant to be read aloud for they are most power filled resting in silence… captivated by another’s dream they add fuel to the fires that burn within… Some words are not mean to be spoken at all they are meant to be read by another’s heart…

Some words are meant to be spoken… shouted… cried out in joy… these are the words of desire, passion and love that we share… In the depths of one heart is the capacity to love effortlessly all those that wish to be loved in such a way… as to free themselves from the ties that bind them… love is an effortless emotion… given without boundaries and expectation frees the receiver to be who they are… and who they are is witness to the love they are willing to share…

Some words are meant to be taken to heart while others are meant to be passed on… some words are best left where they lie… while others need to be picked up and polished so they shine in the glow of the sun once more… Some words are meant to be trod upon while others are meant to be held high and rejoiced in… Some words heal while others threaten or harm… When one walks with another it is best to share the words…

Some words are meant as a means to paint a picture as an artist weaves his pen or brush would… Some words find their place on the canvas and form an image so perfect and intriguing that others look upon it as a work or art much like a great master would paint… some words find their home in native tongues impossible to share they are cherished for their ethnic wonder… some words are bountiful and pleasant to listen to… they speak of desire and passion in the universal tongue of understanding of being… Some words are meant to cast shadows so that knights can wander unseen and protect the souls who walk within… Some words are meant to be the avenue of understanding between people of diverse thought… a language they both can speak… some words are spoken through eyes that meet and souls that are reflected… for it is knot the sound of the word nor the language in witch it is spoken… it is what the words touches that is important… and all words are meant to touch… the heart of the one they are sent to…

Days arrive when we are less then what we wish to be… for me the art of expression releases that… there is sadness some daze in the words that are written in the feel of the fabric of the language used… Days arrive when the happiness of me is only within me it does knot come forth in the words for while I am happy there is a sadness to that happiness… It is difficult to meet people and to gain confidence in ourselves… the fear of rejection or of being ignored fills us with hesitation… In time I have learned that to know is better then to wait to know… that comes with experience… I also know that each person is a gift… a treasure to be with or to know in some way… be sure enough to be unsure… to watch, to look, to listen, to expect the unexpected and be prepared to move and be flexible… It is knot always about dealing with an ass in some ways it is about steering around them… Days arrive when we wish to be and we awaken to find we are knot there yet… take heart and be happy with hue… for that glow will extend outwards… and in time surround you with people…

Reality is a concept we all cling to… as the place we should find a reference… for it is believed that reality is the rock from witch we can wander from and come back to… Yet reality changes as much as any thing else based on what we know… what we believe to be real is based on the facts we have… change those facts and the reality we were holding on to fades… while it is true that we should knot live inside a dream forever life is a dream… a fantasy at times… a night mare at others… along the way we find people… others like and unlike us… we share these dreams with them… some walk a ways with us… some cross our paths… some influence us with their dreams and ambitions… others shock us with their view of life and reality… from all this we find gems along the way that we cling to as treasures… be it in reality or a dream these thoughts cultivate the fertile grounds of our imagination… pulling forth the wonder, the joy, the love that abounds in all things… reality is not real… nor is fantasy fake… they are what they are and we use them as we will… a bit of each to shine… to shimmer and to glow in the delight of each and every day…

Accept dance… a silent movement to the rhythm of ones heart… a following of the lead or leading of the follower in time to the music felt more then heard… a pull in this direction… a push in that… a dance that is wondrous, joyous… loving in the arms of time… in the silence of heaven… in the peace of mind, heart and soul… a twirl… a spring to life… a passionate following of dreams listening to the sound of ones own making mixing poetically with the sounds of the earth… the accept dance of time… of being who one is in the plan of time… of stepping forward into the delight of the day to reflect the mood of happiness into the hue that glows…

To lead is to follow… a choice it is to be first to take charge and go forth and others for the lack of choice will follow… one does knot start out as a leader it grows within them… for the scenery never changes for those who follow… they see nothing but what is in front of them… while at times we need to be one of the many other times we need to be the one of the few… to follow one has to lead for a time… to learn the balance of power one must weld it to themselves for a time… to lead is to take on the shoulders of responsibility for others… while to follow is to be sheep… a member of the flock… each has a turn at leading and at following… we know the place we find the most comfort… the place we feel at rest… some it is among the many… for a few it is on top… for they are blind unless lifted above the mass of many… Once a king always a king… forever in charge of things… choose and go for the path of life divides and moves us along diverse ways… the more we roam them the more advantages we have… to lead… to follow a journey where ever it may lead… to be taken or to be left… the safety net removed or left in place… a wall to climb or a hill to wander up… the choice is up to those who reach such cross roads… there is always an alternative… find it and be free of the journey… find it and take yourself on another… for there are always more ways to reach a height then the ones placed before you… some will find a solution in the peace of being… accept the dance you are chosen for… for in the end it is the dance that you will dance alone…

The finest of lines is drawn… along where the mind walks… questi0ons probe the mystery in search of an answer that will bring a sense of comfort… a relaxation of the curiosity… to know avail… to know more… to seek out the passion of ones desire… to being forth from fertile minds the fruits of thought applied… a stretch of the imagination… a bend in the minds toward dreams… a fine line… reality and fantasy… of dreams and cold hard facts witch we believe… on one side rests the world and all its magic… on the other is our perception of that reality expressed as best we can… for our words, our paintings, our art and our world is a representation of the reality it is not the reality at all… the reality exists in a dream we create to express the reality as best we can… it is the finest of lines drawn on witch we walk…

To those who like the mystery… the challenge of writing… of unraveling over time the person behind the façade of a screen name… Where are those who wish to correspond, who wish to write about any thing and every thing..? Names or ages are not important… let the mystery of who you are unfold over time… over weeks and years of writing… Inspire me to write… to create from my imagination a vision of you created from your words… Share with me the journey of each day… knot so much in specifics but in the wonder of life… feel the freedom of writing what comes to mind… of being limitless in ones imagination… let the spark of magic inspire you to take up your pen and write…

Dreaming of a bath… to sit in a place filled with warmth…