Things are bound… tied in such a way as to bring them in two contact… to become one… to separate… to become two… then four… the multiples are endless… from two flows many… the law of multiples… and we are bound two… remember… as easily as we are bound to forget… expect we do the transition… the turning of the tide… from the climb to the fall… the lighting the thunder… the roads we drive up on… the up swings… the pair of dice we gamble with…

A journal by its nature will keep in mind the arrangements we put down… a journal when used does allow one to wander back into the state of the mind… of course one ahs to use it in that regard… mine is a just a field of thoughts… such that one could wander in on any day and bathe in the words and never know the state of my mind… it is how I arranged it to be… the view from the bridge… as opposed to the view from the edge… we are all bound in some way to the thoughts we have and the way we have come… remembering to me was never that important… what was… was that I did get here from there…

The tide rises and falls… each to their own… an interesting point of view… yet tainted we are by the beliefs we have… one can never truly escape the sexual element in a relationship between people… even of the same sex… there is that tension that exists… that edge we walk… as we get older we find the threads that we are comfortable with and stay within them… yet the walls are thin some times between friends… and we fall into that embrace easier with some then with others… I wish there was a simple always true answer… that we could all agree two… butt unfortunately there is not… what we have is people… moods… emotional waves and vulnerabilities… and some times we are just easy to knock over and at other times we are the rock that withstands the tidal wave… I know for I have been both and if not for the kindness of those I was with… I would be cast to the winds… as so much less then what I am… if we move away from the gender game and think in terms of souls it is easier… but eventually we have to come back to the body and the heart… and in that realm while we are still people… we desire and crave very differently… what we all need though is kindness… compassion and consideration…

How or where… questions some times get befuddled… how one is a momentary lapse of the reasoning… where one is… is the state of their being… where tells more then how… where speaks to the heart of the soul of the matter at hand… how is often side stepped in conversations… we say one thing… we hope they believe it… or some times we hope they believe it not… how… would be answered as well as I should be and more… where… in many places at once… a paradox they are… such answers come and they go… for they speak knot to ones ears butt two ones heart…

The question is side stepped… while another is answered… one substituted for another… where does one go for the shoulder… the place where they can be vulnerable without strength… where does one go when they wish to let down the barriers and be… easy it is to take up the sword and seek the fight… easy it is to occupy the mind with the many challenges that life places before… takes more to search within for the peace that makes you complete then to occupy your mind with the tasks at hand… the list can be endless to take on… the responsibilities enormous… the fruits of such labors plentiful… I will knot deny they have a place in each of our lives… it was not the question put forth… to answer it one has to dwell within for a time… come to peace with themselves… come to terms with the body… the heart and the soul… with what we can… and with what we can knot… yet… some we will manage to accomplish and some will never interest us… in the still nest of time we need to know where we can go for the solace… the support… the embrace of ones soul… where the peace of our mind is and always shall be…

Knot being able to do strains ones imagination… being able allows for the chaos to over take you… one gives because they get the some thing they desire from the gift… when the thing they desire is no longer there… what keeps them giving… for most times they do… keep on giving… as if a program is running wild out of control… the giving continues to those who stop appreciating the gifts… at times the best gift is the gift of being on ones own… to love deeply one has to be able to let go… to stop being there for them as the net of safety… or the noble white knight or what ever image one conjures in their minds eye…

A natural occurrence… an intensity followed by a separation… a moment in time… opening a possibility to other moments in time… an opportunity focused upon and left to the wonders of living… then after a time of breathing the free air and enjoying the chaos of life we come around again to the question of who… of when… of where… while we have dealt with many… we have knot yet dealt with the one… the busier we are the more we hide the one adventure we still have… the one that opens us up to the rest of the world… there is fear in that… true fear that those who know us will knot life what we are under the façade… that when we strip away the covers they will run in fear of the demons we have… the most difficult of things is to be the tower of strength that needs a tower of strength… to be vulnerable… to let down the guard… tears not of frustration alone but also of joy… of anger… of need that you allow no other to see… a word in the darkness that gives you light to see… sound to hear and touch to feel as deeply of yourself and who you are… the image you project is easy… the who I speak of is the who you are to hue…

I have given up the fantasy… the dream I have had for all these years… where it possible to reach I would gladly continue… but recently I have arrived at the crossing of the road aware that know matter what I do… what I say… what I feel within my heart and soul… it is impossible… being the realist I am forced to be at times… I have given up that particular dream… and put it away for the better of both worlds… the world of my dreams and the world of my reality… at the very least it is not some thing I will share with any one any more… sharing does have its dilemmas… it requires each to participate in it… even when we are altruistic in our giving we wish to hear the thank you or a word or two that the gift was appreciated… if we give with know expectation of a return we never allow them to get close to us… to share with us the wonder of who we are… beyond the veils… the covers… there is a dream that is naked and truth full… it is here we find peace… it is here we know who we are in the delight of what we now know… once the façade is tripped away… I have arrived at such a crossing of the road as to give myself pause… aware now that the fantasy has little place in my reality I put it away and stepped off the path I was on… in so doing there are tolls to pay and debts to incur… silence is one of them… an absence of words another… until such time as I learn how and where I am in regards to them… how I am does not describe where I am… and where I am is some where on the road to discovering where I am going… in time with time… butt any way…

Men are knot that different then women… they have the same desires… passions… dreams… as a gender men take to being louder… more physical… yet I have been witness to both sides of the equation… and while I am more comfortable with my female friends in contrast to my male ones I know there are subjects that will never be discussed with me… as open and as easy as I am… there are lines drawn invisible as they are to my eyes… I am not offended by the fact… just interested in the nature of it… it is a fact of nature that we flirt… we need to know we are attracted still to the opposite… that they find us interesting as we age… as we lose some of that youth filled stamina… men worry about finding the right women for them… they deal with it differently… men are easily put off… give up easily and find the solace faster… it is more acceptable for a man to be alone… either my choice or by reasons of insanity… having lived both sides of that equation I can tell you… at times I do miss the solace… though I would not give up the embrace for it… there are certainly times I miss it… and wish only to break free… and breath the air and do as I please… knot having to worry about what others think of see… or wonder about… it is interesting now that my friends are mostly female for when I was growing up and into my twenties my friends were mostly male… what an interesting twist of fate that is… my wife insists that women life married men for they feel we are safe and want knot to get inside their knickers… witch is true in most cases… having a relationship with women is easy and wonderful… the complicated parts are the parts associated with gender bias and sex… with each gender sees differently… to men sex is a necessary wonder in any relationship… to women it is a sign of undying devotion to them… in reality love is a shared moment in time… where two become one… it is where two share one space in time for the wonder of that time… it is love that binds them… knot the act… I know this because I have learn it from experience… sex is an act… love is a life time… an experience that is carried with you forever… even when the love fades as it often does… the memory of the shared moment stays pure… they are special and unique in our lives… what we find when we seek is that witch we wish not to… what we find when we stop seeking is that witch was always there… mostly that is due to knowing what we wish not to find and not wishing for what we wish to find… so when we stop wishing for what we wish not to see… we see that witch that was in all ways there for us to see all along… men are not so different…

Time was and still is what we make of it… we have a sense of who and when butt where gets lost… we change and the influences upon us are altered… what we believed once escapes us… leaving us with the results of that belief in an altered state of mind… yet that belief allowed us to learn really learn… the rain drops make for a cooling shower… the open window a breath of fresh air… the morning an opportunity to in joy embrace the day…

The freer the spirit the higher they soar… maybe… or maybe the freer one is the less they let go… for they know what they desire and they go to it easily and completely embrace it within themselves… stirring the contentment of peace that surrounds… a single day explores the range of ones possibilities if we are free enough to grasp one string… or aware of the strings as they appear… the ones who soar I believe are those willing to let go…

The words pulled a thread of mine… a purpose to them… it is the protest of to much of one or of another…are the words to be taken as one or are they to be taken as another… witch direction is home… if one has no idea in mind any road selected will get us there… any port in the storm of life will be acceptable to harbor our thoughts… where shall we take the words… to the level of compliment… or are they a journey for the mind to perplex over… the paradox is that one should say they agree to some level… and then at another it is all a spot on paper… that each takes to the wonder of their mind and creates some thing magical… some thing mind full… an open book… a multicolored thread that swings in circles as well as in lines of melted squares… a single toss of crossed words… and suddenly we are there… or is it here we are… here we stay… until we are gone… it is just a black spot on some paper… after all… and we see within them… the meaning beyond the printing… beyond the letters… beyond the sentiment… and what that is… is a secret to those who get it… and a question to those who miss the possibility…

A bite of the content mint goes a long way in satisfying the angst of life… I find that when one is happy they tend to write less… and do more… the getting to the journal tends to fall away to the side… and I agree it is a necessary wonder that it is the way it is… for I can in all ways in joy reflect that when one writers less they are enjoying life more…

The road begins and suddenly we can or do we plan to use it for more then one experience… a twist just here or there can lead us to a more interesting task… or it could be just that we meant to go here and did go there instead and find that all along we really wished to get where we ended up in the first place… bee as it makes its way by instinct finds the better of the two or one and carries a bit of each to the next one… we are some what like that in that we bring with us the experience of all the yesterdays into today… at the same time we create the present from not only what we are familiar with… butt also from that witch we have yet to experience and learn… the side treks are for me the most interesting… for solitude can be found in the chaos of daily life as easily as the peace of a majestic garden… on the road with music in ones heart and a song on ones lips…

A thread is all… a thin measure of time weaved into the tapestry of our imagination… an art exists in the melding of a story of life… a story that captivates the mind and pulls it out of the safety of the four walls it finds comfort within… where do we go from the here and now… and where is it we desire to be in the then… what step is taken in a word or two… edged in the between… a lack of oxygen takes ones breath away as easily as the sight of the illusion walking out of the cloud into ones dream and then into ones life time… what elements are we seeking to create a reality with… what portions of a dream are we satisfied with in our minds to bring out of the wonder and into the day… the night… the thunder and the lighting… we strike a balance… and find the wire tight… we go off one side or the other and we find the wire tight… it gets so… that in the end we forget… and wonder why… when why knot is a more interesting ponder… at least for me it is the more interesting of the ponders that I ponder when I am pondering questions of why and why knot… for who cares why or why knot… in the long run of days into knights into days that becomes months and years of time… does it matter why or why knot…

Time takes me away or more time sets me off a few hours… a slight beat of being off balance… I have arrived at a cross road in time and watch as the sun sets… in a few hours the sun will rise from the opposite direction… these are the passing of the summer of our times… each day a wonder… each hour a celebration… each minute a time to reflect in kind… each is a paradox of thought… one blended with another… so close and yet so far… time takes us and we indulge time… for we have no other alternative for time is all we have…

Each pays for the silence… the words not spoken… it is not so much a monetary equation as a personal one… each word that sticks is one not expressed… is one set of over standings not shared… more then any thing else when one feels their opinion matters not… they move on…

It is a novel idea… one I am sure will never be more then an idea… my style of things is knot suited for the majority… only a minority can grasp the thread I weave…the rest would be bored by the process… my words encourage the reader to explore the many avenues open to them… I am purposefully in descriptive in what I write… witch allows the reader to portrait the colors as they wish… add the spice and darken the lines… the novel idea is just that beyond my reach of concentration… I am unsuited for such a journey of words in fixed structure and formats… I prefer the freedom of open correspondence… and I will leave the novel idea to the ones who come after…

In time each artist captivates the listener in some way… if the words have clarity they grip the heart… pull the strings of emotions an define a time in your life… for the longest time I wondered in pop… preferring the easy listening to the long narrative… my passion for artists was not the words but the musical feel… the doors were beyond me for a decade… and then suddenly they were there in perfection definition of time… as was Janice… with her passion for the blues… and a voice that defined a generation… could any one be as possessed on a stage… or as in tune with the words as she was… when she sang the world stopped… it was for a time all about the notes… then suddenly it become all about the words… all about the perfection of the words to the music… I could knot get there… or imagine the white rabbit any more without thinking of the airplane… could one grow old without hearing Jimi… without feeling the words of Dylan… without being touched by the sounds of silence… or the bridges over the waters… could one miss out on the pop and be alive in the counter culture of stones… beetles… and still be true to muddy waters… the music of the night captivates as much as smoke on the water… or the pleas to hold ones head up… or to get out and row… the music defines our times as much as a picture… as much as a tear or thread… even if we are deaf to the notes of chopin or Mozart… we feel their influence in our lives… are you experienced… on the road again to Marakesh… the express bus is leaving… as we plead for the sun knot to go down on us… or for the man about to walk on the moon… so many avenues to grasp the texture of… I take them all to heart and sing them…

I have moved one step beyond the last one…a necessary quick step for the sentimental version of me… a day spent in the rain with a good book and sounds has in all ways folded me in upon myself… the soft summer rain that alternates between the mist and the down pour… the warm winds that sweep it across the lawn… the dash of people between rain drops… to get one step beyond where they are in life so as not to get wet… I wonder if it matters at all… if the struggle to reach has any meaning on days like that… would it be better to just accept the rain and walk as one should and be wet to the bone… drenched as if one dove in… I wonder if by some miracle we could run between the rain drops how many would miss the wonder of being soaked in body… mind and soul… the rain I imagine is a perspective one experiences with another… it is a perspective of time… of place and of temperature inside and out… I have fond memories of summer rain… of being soaked to ones being and hearing the sighs as the cool drops splash upon my being… the times of my life were not all smiles as the water flowed so did tears and so did the reflections of me… for the cusp turns and the signs change and the day passes and it was a day of reflection where one arrives at conclusions… as I once did I do again… forever and in all ways we are locked into our internal struggles until we give them up or they win out over our souls… they exist as the mirror of our being… the path we are destined to take versus the path we have chosen… a listing of our choices and the reflection on the wall of our life times as to the outcomes of such picks… our life times reflections… a surround sound sin a ma of stories we know as we touch a pictured framed or a stone… a word or thought… a tapestry of our times… at each we are flooded with emotions… a wave of deep honesty about who we are and where we are headed… and some times the wave knocks us over and some times it shocks us into awareness… each drenches us… soaks us to the skin and bone of our reality versus our fantasy… and so it goes… and so do I… I suppose…

Most of the time I am sure enough to be unsure of what I am saying… it is not the way I write… a word or thought trips my imagination and there you have it… what comes forth is some times as much a mystery to me as to the one I imagine needs to read it… I trust some what in my intuition in that regard… a word stands out enough for my unconscious mind to notice and from there I am inspired to respond in some way…the first time for most things is unique… most often it is not our best… and it is only remembered as being the first… kiss… that sort of thing comes to mind as the culmination of anticipation… of what it would be like… in time we improve on such wonders as we let go the swirl of anticipation into our actions we become more accustom to their face…

The wall has been for me since the first time I hear it a reflection peace… a journey in my own life time of pieces of my own… I could relate to the thoughts that are placed there in the threads of a life’s journey… the passion and yet the inability to communicate that witch that consumes them… wanting to be outside but finding oneself more and more each day inside… being comfortably numb to the world as to survive the day into the night to survive another day… I can hear the strings of Mother played and still ask do you think they will drop the bomb… or feel the need to run like hell to get away from the worms… that can sink into ones brain… our lives are reflected more in the walls we build around us to protect us… yet in protection we exclude life… loves… passions and the art of ourselves… within these walls is an artist… of talent that know one will see… that know one will find interesting… that know one will remember… those times were some what long ago for me but I still recall them when ever I hear the songs from that album… they turn the pages of my journey from the class room to the life of an adult… uneasy with being one and looked upon as one… they were the notes as were others of the times we had and the tides of change we would explore and take upon our own shoulders… at times I am just another brick in the wall… at times I am the explosion that tares it down… and in between there are moments for running away and being lost in the comforts of numbness… for asking questions for knowing that more education is useless without practical use… for wondering if they ever will drop the bomb… it is one of those master peaces of song… that define a time so perfectly… at least for me…

The un ones are more important to remember then the one where the un disappears… special daze abound… in life we can find each day a reason to celebrate and we should in that respect hold this day up as the best of times… for it is the present… the gift of life that should be extolled from all reaches of ones imagination… to know the wonder of any one day is to hold paradise in ones hand… to know how to find the wonder in each day is ecstasy… the passion for life explodes when we explore beyond our reach… when we exhume our play filled curiosity of a child and bring it forward into the present of this day… one needs to remember the un daze… for they are numerous in their ability to spread joy and fill dreams… as opposed to the days when the un is dropped away… for they are but a few in comparison…

The present allows us to reflect on our journey… the words of one trip the thoughts of others… we find our daze in the delight we have in the deepest sigh… the one of resignation… resolve… or the one of acceptance… or possibly the one that escapes us in passions grip… there are times when we are allowed to see ourselves in the light of what we now know to be a truth…our eyes being cleared of the clouds of untruth… so we change in the face of what we now know and make the amends to our tapestry as best we can and move on with our journey… in joy we find the color of our day… in passion the fuel for the night time fires… in creativity the endless set of possibilities to answer each call… yet still at times we feel the trap of time slipping over us… the ending of our time coming closer with each day… we know knot of the time or of when but just that it is there… some where in our future… little time do I yield to such thoughts for it is a pointless exercise in life… the end is just another point in life we must experience… as much as we experienced the beginning and the wonder of life we must cross over into the next…the doorway is the end…

We need only tell or show some one that witch they need to know… the rest of us needs to remain a mystery… that is shared in time when they need to know more… until then we should remain silent…

I arrive at places to run out of ways of saying what it is my mind… yesterday I wandered down a path to learn I was incorrect in a perception… I thought I knew some thing… a place I find to be dangerous… unnerving… I prefer to be aware of what surrounds me… yet on that day a cloud of my own thought limited my ability to sense beyond what I imagined… at first I asked myself some points to reflect upon… and as the day’s journey came to an end I realized some thing… an aha moment… it is not easy to have an aha moment about oneself… I often have an impression of who I am that does not reflect well at times with the reality that others grasp… intent being the path that swirls toward hell I find myself taking steps back… life is not an easy road… it is filled with voids if we are to hasty or to cautious … to open or to closed or we miss judge a situation or person… late at night reflecting on the day the aha arrived… and it all made sense… here I sit this morning aware of the aha and the knowledge it brings… and I can see what I was unable to grasp in the light of what I now know… it is a simple knowledge that explains a great deal… it is where a belief lies… like anything else in life we can believe in some thing that is not a truth… and for a time that belief will help us to grow in a certain way… at some point we will outgrow that belief and know that is was a lie of sorts and establish a new one based on the experience of the old belief… and the knowledge we have gained… we do this a number of times as we grow and mature… we learn the best of intentions paved a way to hell and though they were false still helped us along our way… so I will begin to seek the truth were my beliefs lie… a reflective path that will take me to all aspects of my life and times… it is a choice I make… the aha took my breath away and froze me… knocked me over and drenched me in the waters of reflected wonder… a snap into and out of reality… of truths and consequences… of lies I told myself and believed to be… a journey of some miles and more to go before I rest in the knowledge I now have… it is not how one starts that matters most… butt how one finishes… how one walked the roads they have chosen to walk… are the pictures along the walls tales you wish to tell or ones you wish to hide… is your life a reflection to be seen by the many or the select few… do we hide our thoughts deep inside or express them in the highest volumes from the highest precipice we can gain… is our happiness draped in a dream or in the arms of reality… as much as we wish our lives to be open to another it is not possible to share in that way… one does not strip and stand before the other… one does not bare their soul… one does not speak… or listen… or in any way navigate the waters of relationships alone… I believed it was all about giving without expectation… that was incorrect… some took and left… some took and wished to share and left because they could not… some wished to give and believing nothing was needed they left… I learned that we all have expectations… of some sort… maybe it is just a thank you or I appreciate your kindness… or maybe we wish knot to be noticed at all… but we get that good feeling within that we have lent a hand… I learned that I do expect some thing… I also learned that sharing is not done in equal measures and while people wish us to share with them they are not so ready to share with us… over time they teach us what they will tolerate in thought from us and what they will not allow and if you are some one like me who allows anything at all… confusion and frustration tend to find ways into your mind… it is not an intentional path they follow just a protective one… we each have our walls… our fortresses of us that must be stormed… rebuilt and stormed again and again… one cannot stretch out their vulnerabilities and have them known without erecting new ones… there does come a time when we face the reality of who we are in the lies we believed… as noble as an original thought was some where along the way it became tainted… and that witch I was turned… into that witch I am… know matter how one gets where they are they should know where they are and once they know… they can set a course for where they need to be in reflection of the mirror of my life I am some what off the course… I learned a hard lesson about the lies I took as truths… in the future of my life times I will be care full to know the difference and when I know I will change them according to that witch I now know… I have in many ways been a fool for what I have shared… for what I have given away freely and without expectation… that I did so with an open heart speaks of my intent… but even that will not save me… even that is just an excuse for not paying attention…

The day dawns… the night a distant memory of reflection… of decisions pondered and realizations found in the delight of what I now know… experience tells us… that witch we need to know… shows us the way to find her… in anticipation we paint a picture perfect… one that will not stand the testing of time… one that will fade when exposed to the light of truth… in time with time we learn to navigate the ways of relationships… when to hold… when to give space for a free journey… when to set sails full and when to let them flutter in the breeze safe in the security of a harbor… today is a day that comes after a day when reflection is a natural occurrence… imagine my journey over the last years… my thoughts… my check with the reality of my life… imagine where all these words have led me… imagine all the beliefs that lie here and there scattered about in some form or another… imagine all that is and know that it matters not a great deal… a smile still lights my face and a thought will in all ways still be part of my peace… I am finished with this part of my journey… another year has come and gone… another starts… another opportunity to be the best one can be in the light of what they now know… and so it goes…

I have come to the conclusion that my life will never make sense… sow I will stop attempting to make it do so… and just in joy the wonder of the time I have…

The chunks of life or the smooth texture… a bit of each I believe makes for interesting times… certain moments we need to bite off that big chunk and struggle to swallow it… other moments are best relaxed and allowed to surround us in ease… the best of times are the ones we are in… the ones of the present moment… we can long for others butt these are the ones to cherish… in time they are the memories we long to have once more… of we do them right the first time they stay with us for time over time… all we ever have to decide is do we wish a mouth full or a sip to satisfy our passion today… yesterday and tomorrow will take care of themselves in the delight of present…

There is more to the songs then you let on about… it may seem like they are just things that you light and they very well are… yet they do trip certain wires within one self… if I was to recollect about a song… or in this case… an album… Pink Floyd Dark Side of the Moon… it would give you a reflection of my past… an entire face of being on the other side of some thing… of being experienced in the elements of mind alteration to a point that one was the music being played… the lunatic if one so chooses to be… or a summer reflection… one lets on just a little when they say I like it because I am this or that… it is where their belief lies… because in truth it is much more… easy it is to say I just like it… when it does some thing magical to ones mind… if for only those three minutes or so we are transported to another time and place when we were younger and first heard the notes… or it reminds of a first kiss or love… dance or moment… our lives are painted with a love of musical notes that float over our beings… to dismiss them as just because… well that is to easy… my life is threaded together with passages of songs… and if I was to choose butt one I could write a novel… of its thoughts conjured up… the artists vary and the moments ebb and flow in tides of reflection… maybe it is because I am that much more experienced in the times of my life and I find myself looking back and wondering what ifs more to grasp a foot hold on where I am going… but still the interesting part of hue is not reflected in one word… the interesting part is reflected in the creative hue being stretched by the music…

This day the un falls away… it is the one day within the many that is not… butt is… a day like any other… know more… know less… know mirror of reflection necessary to know any more then I did… a time more for others to remember the passing of time then for me to acknowledge as much… it is another day in the line of daze that make up a tick in a clock for references…

Truth… lies… in the end… what is… is… exactly as it is imagined… almost butt not quite… the variations of degrees come from the spice of reality… the salt of life… the sprinkle of that particular some thing that wets ones appetite… it was easy to imagine a conversation for one in that world always answers as one imagines and we always have an answer for their questions or a response to their words… reality is not like that… even virtual reality has the taste of a real person on the other end across the universe answering in their own time… and those answers are filled with their frailties… their shortsightedness… their perception of their imagination as it mixes with ours… it is not a bad thing at all just a way of change and mixing one expectation with another and walking away with a slice of a reality we never had before… it is interesting from a perspective… for it feeds now into our imagination once more… the artist now has more paint… or more words or more of a reality to sculpt…

A plateau is reached and the feelings simmer instead of boil and bake… the outside heat some times leaves us with a perspective of less between the cool shade and the heat of passion… we get that thought that the jump is less…when it is just the out of side temperature that runs hotter… but also we become some what content with our heat waves… yet we wish for more heat in our lives and we begin to ask if it is fair… to do so…we wonder about the happiness we have reflecting on the changes in our life… the best is yet to be… but happiness is internal… not external… it is a state of peace within ones realm of reality… and who deserves it more then you…

As each year passes it is interesting how perspectives change in my mind… the impossible seems to be possible at moments of deep reflection… the tide I would say runs deeper and more to the edge then before…the waters to reflect in are deeper and more rich with possibilities to dream upon…

My mind is seeking a place to put perspectives I have…I want to keep them in one place and have them… yet I fear them at the same time… or maybe the term is I am anxious about them… about these emotions they produce of the thoughts that run through my head at times… of unfolding ones emotions into mine… of stepping over the limits of my thoughts and diving into another’s…

Today for the first time in a while I sensed that I was being some what of a burden… my reading of things lost in the sense of some thing… my confusion clouding my mind… best I should say nothing then to say some thing stupid… I am interested in the course of that… in the course of ones ability to intuitively know and then suddenly knot to… to be in a state of unknowing for a time or maybe forever more… when once they could… that falling out of tune with another…I believe it is because they think they know… instead of trusting in what they sense they arrive with a conclusion in hand… and lose sight of that witch that there is… so one will stay blind to the sense of another until such time as they stop being sure and become sure enough to be unsure and just observe…

Words take us to places… the wonder of a full and vivid imagination is that we can get there from here… and be it the long and winding road or the short and steadfast one… of the straight and narrow… matters not… what does matter is that we got there from here… we get to the places we desire in some form or another… what that form is… is left to our imaginations to conjure up… that witch we wish to be unfolds in the hour of our need to be some where… while we have learn in life that it is not what we want very often that we get… it is what we need that most often drops into our laps… to dance… to sing… to paint with the focus of the artist as a portrait of themselves in youth… for in our eyes we never grow beyond the youth… in our eyes we may have fault lines and age spots… butt deep inside we have not grown one day beyond the age of reasonable wonder…

Curiosity is a fickle cat… one that disappears in a split season… at one moment the world is there for all to consider… in the next instant it is turned right side down… what pictures we have within are the creation of our minds as they wandered… in wonder… change happens… we grow we develop an ability to go beyond that witch we were… to become that witch we wish to be… the picture is imperfect… it lacks substance… only slight images… only the simple twists of fate… a glimpse I used to create a fantasy… a simple veiled view was all I needed to go from… and suddenly an image is there played with… I keep it as a some what tripped imagination… some thing to sit with and wonder… a sliver of white in a dark world…

All the time the possibilities are stretched… endlessly toward the limits of ones abilities to grasp them… the best of things seem to just out side our reach… just beyond the tips of fingers… so close one can feel the present… yet not close enough to touch… only to sense… and it is that sense that is mysterious… that sense that is alluring to us… the hint of some thing just beyond our ability to know… pushes us to seek more… to gaze upon more… to explore more… it is the hint of that captivates our mind…

Transitions happen in life… we go from the paradise of self… to the paradise of together… to the wonder of family… of children… of home hearth and simple pleasures… we find the wonder is in the person we are… and we learn perfection is not what makes life interesting… but the imperfections of one melting with the imperfections of another to form a perfect match… what happens over time is a smoothing of the rough edges… the diamonds are honed one to the other… the edges that once were jaded have been by the kindness of time smoothed over… what happens is that if we are lucky we find ourselves encouraged… happy and loved… while it may seem at times the sparks fly less often in a romantic way or passions heat flares less… those delights still simmer and boil… just in less volatile degrees as in our youth…

A bedtime story… a tale before one shuts their eyes to drift off to… the dreams of the dream tree are not my fantasy… they belong to another… if I do anything at all it is to create an atmosphere where one can drift off to a place where they find the image of life more enticing… where they can open their mind to alternatives in witch to dream… a series of doors awaits those who can walk this way… while it is true that I sit down to place my dreams in some order as others are awakening… or as others are getting down to the rest filled moments… what purpose do I bring… what could I drop into another’s dream that would make them better then they already are… what can I wash over them that would spark or inspire them to go further… move faster or experience more… if I told a bedtime story it would be one of colors… or stretching ones imagination to go beyond the limits that they sense… to places over the horizon… if one has to wash in a water fall it should be one of passions sweat and joy filled tears…

One does not take another… one goes with them… one just eases them into the thought they wish to have… we are not capable of creating within another’s mind that witch they wish to be… what we can do is provide the atmosphere for them to wander within… and then go with them… as they move in and out of the forest of their dreams… what ever or with whom ever they go the notion is an easy one to consider… the more relaxed the mind… the more possibilities they are willing to turn over and over in their mind… each deep breath is an invitation to go deeper in the stillness and wander in the leaves… searching for the perfect fruit to savor…

Impossibilities are shed in time… what surrounds us is dreams that others had… we are surrounded by the creations of another’s mind… by the spirit of their creativity… each some thing that you can touch… hear or see is a creation of another’s imagination… except for the creatures that inhabit the world… it can even be said that we are the creation of some one imagination because we are conceived in that light… we are conceived in the act of love between people… from that we are brought forth into this life… so what seemed so impossible at one place in time is not common in ours… the world becomes smaller by the degrees of time… the more we share the more we mingle ideas… the more we blend one to the other… tolerance is about accepting another’s idea as being valid and not demanding they be the same… it is impossible to know what another is thinking until they speak…act or in some way communicate that to you… our words are all we have… for time over time… age upon age… words have been the language we are willing to share… what is it that stops… starts… continues or halts…