Some thrive on the edge of the blade… on the cutting… the fiery pleasure of arresting responses… of tripping the buttons… that send rockets to glare and sights to be hold… the chop for them never comes two soon or two late… the chop is what is sought after all… what is the pleasure of the edge… if at times they miss getting cut in two..?
The hugs are special… the licks a taste of what is forbidden… the grope a knead to feel with ones finger tips the desire realized… the tingling of the outstretched arm… the anticipation of the fruit forbidden… a need… an awakening of the spirit of another time… a swirling of waters… of endless skies held in memory… of warm nights in the summers warmth wrapped tightly around a path found in the depths of ones imagination… opened finally to reveal a power full magic… that one dances with… feels within the very core of who they are… the taste of witch lingers in the air… sweet to the lips… leaving a desire for more… a craving to savor it all…
We all at times try our patience… try the patience of others… try the situations on… act the part… play the role… try… try… try… the words play out in endless repetitions… of being meaning full to reach a place we strive to get at… the process is not in the trying for to try is an indication that we are willing to accept less of ourselves… to hold back some thing… some zing… some part of us that we refuse with all that is sacred to us to give up…so we try… believing that the effort is what is important… the journey… so much we still have yet to learn… the pile of effort means little as to the result… the outcome… the experiment is a success when we do… when we are flexible enough to allow the strings to break… the bindings upon our books to burst wide open… when we are entranced enough to just explode inside out… with the magic of touch we can feel… the magic of speech we can speak… the magic of sight we can see… the magic of imagination we can dream… and from that dream create a way… our way to the climax of our desire… or we can try… and accept that we may never climb the maximum height…
A repetitious thought spoken on and over… still rings uniqueness into a day… the changes of time when reviewed in the light of what we now know alters our perspective on a thought or group of thoughts… what we once believed to be changes as we experience more… as we learn… really learn…
One communicates with all senses… with each and every movement… learn to use what is before you to convey the message that is in your heart… our actions speak as reinforcements to our words… our words an explanation of our eyes… our intent… our steps taken… our thoughts expressed in our dreams a illusion of what life can be… use the art of your hands… the art of your expression to put forth before others the meaning of your life… we communicate with our tongues… our tastes… out sense of purpose and of life… as each page is turned… we learn the small nuances of expression that help… that aid us in our journey to know more and communicate better still… using all the ways available to us… the art of the dance… the notes played on the unstrung harp… all are expressions of the magic communicated… use them all…