Nature does not disappoint or point in any manner at all… nature does what comes natural to its course… instinct and observation… modification based on environment… we can learn a lot from natural design…

Each of us has our own way of finding the lighter… the means to witch our load eases upon our shoulders… be that in prayer… the solitude of time… a walk in nature’s paradise or a deep sigh of letting go that witch we cannot change… the world turns on itself… day upon day… each will find the avenue of their needs…

Much of what we have is a balance of time… against the experience… a need to use the paradox of who when and where… for each shadows the experiences we have set aside for ourselves… each influences how we perceive the use of our time… a waste is only that time where we truly gained nothing… witch never happens… for even in the times we believe we have wasted we learned knot to…

The time has begun in earnest… the parting of the sea… the measuring of the distance… the out of mind sin drums beat… the in time with time paradoxes eluded two… and then we let go the string a little more… and the wings spread… the questions float up… the truth is they are more then ready and we are knot as ready as we would like to be… the time ahs come and gone… raced past and left an image in stills… moving… snap shots of life so far… and we are still perplexed… in wonder… in knowledge of the time and wanting to step back in time… but our times have gone… before and now it is their time…

Sighs can mean many things… yet I tend to think of a sigh as a means of desire or having a good moment in time… sighs are little gasps of escaping sounds that lend a hit to ones true sense of themselves… I know there are the sighs of resignation or of sadness… butt for me they are better expressed as just a sigh in the woods… in my mind a sigh is an automatic response that one cannot control… these are the magical strings of time… let loose without our ability to stop them as a signal that we want more of just that witch you are doing…

Some time… the sum of times before… the present of the now… an illusion of a some thing we can knot yet put our hand upon or arms around… there is that miss… that sense of some of the thing we desire… yet we are unable to define it in words or in the language that can be shared… as much as we wish to over stand we are unable to bring that into balance… bring the sums of before into a balance with the present of this day and time… the sudden change… the wave… the resignation… the shrug of the shoulder as to say what can we do… for there is in time nothing that can be done… and each day passes with more nothing shared in a tangible form… only thoughts… in quiz is shins… challenges to the air we breathe… the possibilities are reduced by the minutes… the hour… the transition of possibilities… the sum of time before does not equal the present… and so it goes…

Know one hurts you as much as the ones you let inside…

Sighs are both wondrous and interesting… they speak of movements of anticipated joy… they are slips… gasps for breathe… positive affirmations that jump from our minds… before we can keep them within…

The affect we have on people… we are unaware of in time… we slip through unnoticed or under the their radar… a casual wave or acquaintance… all the same we inspire… we trip the imagination… the belief that we have to be close to some one to have an effect is a false one that we cling to… we need only be noticed by their unconscious… as a possibility… we truly will never know the number of people we have touched… the number of lives we have influenced… or the number of times one thinks about us and smiles… these are things that are truly amazing… to know them causes some thing unusual… so it is probably best knot to know them at all…

In my mind… if know one gets beyond the farthest hill… my life would knot be as interesting… the fact that few have or even try is because of who they perceive me to be in the light of what they know… so many false perceptions surround any one person… that hold others at a distance… or false ideals… false images… that we allow ourselves to hold in between… the ones who get close… navigate the false hoods…

A spanking… well that is some what of a tease now is it knot… in one sense it says that some one is rather annoyed at another’s words… or maybe they feel you need a jolt out of a perspective… the idea that one can be spanked after a certain age is an awakening… for the spanking can be physical… but more emotional as we get older… words spank harder then any hand or paddle could manage…

Sighs are the things that life are made of… and for… what more is there in life then to be held in a sigh of contentment… to be wrapped in a field where sighs escape with every breath… where our hearts and minds are tickled beyond with each beat or stroke…

Time, fate, destiny… have similar ways of diverging paths… if one is pulled… does another follow… if one is turned… does another turn with them… if one is suddenly aware… does the other share in the same awareness… our paths converged… and since the original convergence we have diverged and converged across time… each time we learn some thing about ourselves and about the other… each time we know more then we did or could ever hope to know about another person… in some ways our desire to be satisfied is filled only to be opened with a desire for more… in other ways our minds are still questioning… still dripping with anticipation of some thing we have not shared… in the hope that we will…

The quest gets us to the place we need to get and while we would maybe have preferred a easier learning experience it often is the one we need… other wise would we have learned what we have learned… it is nice to believe we could have been wiser sooner… butt the reality for all of us is that it takes harsh experience to gain that wisdom we now have…

Action… reaction… response to the way… or a reaction to what is placed before ones eyes… a push… or a gentle nudge… how is that interpreted… the meaning is the response you get… know more… if one feels the challenge of a question or the vagueness of an answer they will respond… in reaction to that… the reaction to the action… the laws of physics… for each action an equal and opposite reaction… be it physical… emotional or spiritual… one gets in return what they send… and if the sensitivity is to what… then ask where… or with whom… if the fur bristles with why… ask another… with the proper question one gets the proper answer… because becomes a valid answer when one asks why… deepens on how specific one wishes to become…

A silent response has a meaning… a plurality of meanings… silence is much more ambiguous then a word… the messages behind silence are many… for our moods are many and each one has its moment of silence… I have written a great deal about silence… the many facets of it… the many avenues my mind wanders in the forest of trees I become lost in when silence veils my way… and the peace I get from the silence of my mind when I am at peace within myself… the world can be at chaos… but within I am at peace in the silence of my mind at rest… where I go with silence deepens on with whom I am with… to sit in silence one has to be at peace with themselves… other wise they are frustrated with the lack of words… the need to speak and not being able to… this state of mine usually springs forth an action… a need to push or pull… to get out of ones own skin… quiet is different then silence… quiet is a moment to catch ones breath… to ahhhh… in the chaos of the day… silence is some thing very unique… it is that state of mine that we go to be with ourselves…

Times change… perception changes… attitudes towards one another change in the light of what we now know… of what we have experienced one with another… and then in the suddenness of time we are aware of things within us as well as things without that eluded our eyes… minds…non-specific they are… but they are… there in the midst of what we now know to be our state of representation of the world… our model of life is altered… by the sequence of things we know… life is not the fantasy… the fantasy is not the life… each is a peace of the other…

Even I can take a hint… when it is placed between the eyes…

The answer deepens… it is not an easy answer… some things must be learned in the way most appropriate for the one who is walking… even a recent passer by will not be able to tell them… have the sense to know… is different… then the experience of knowing more… in most situations we have to experience the fire to know it is hot… just saying it is hot is some times enticing to the hand to touch… we do a lot of things we should knot… a lot of things we know better knot to do… butt we still do them… and having survived the fall we believe ourselves to be immune to the landing… eventually we have to find out and another’s words are just not good enough… in truth when we learn to ask the correct questions we do get the answers… until we ask them though… the information we desire is not in all ways apparent to us… even though it may in all ways be right before our eyes we miss it… one can lead a horse to the water… making them drink is another thing all together… I am in constant difficulty because I lead to places that require the mind to open… that require a certain freedom of expression… knot everyone desires the responsibility of that… they like the tickle to the senses… beyond that… nothing more… and I can accept that… having slipped off the edge once or twice… I know the sharp edges cut deep… what we do some times is not as shattering though as that witch we left undone…

When I write about the elusive obvious more often then knot I am speaking of myself… of my own short sightedness… or misinterpretation… a lot of what I place in the third person is a singular person narrative… easier it is for me to state it that way… some poetic license if you will… after all it is my circumstance that I am writing about and only a select few venture in to see… even though it is a public writing… the public is oblivious to who… what… where and where… they see only what they wish to see… hear or feel… all the rest is elusive until the frame of reference becomes some what more in view… the stronger the frame… the more clarity to the picture… the sharper the image one gets… of course a selective focus will at times allow for more elusive ideas to slip away… it is after all a compromise… when I allude to the elusive it is from my perspective…

When one asks why… why not is a perfectly good response… because why is not the proper question to ask… why is answered with… why knot or who cares… or an opinion… this is not the reason fro the question… other questions will yield better results before one asks a why… how… with whom… when… where… how often… in what situations… when in time… when in place… in what circumstances… all give insight to the mind behind… why as a general rule I find to be harsh… as a knife… more then a request for information… blame is fixed in a why question… and for the most part I am knot into blame… I wish to know how this or that comes about… what trip a thought this way or that… when we ask the correct questions we get a more interesting answer…

Without us the accidents of time will knot occur… for we are the ones who miss step in places and learn from the leap of faith we take… trust in instincts is arrived at from the experience… as with all trust it is earned over time… generally given to some degree then the rest is a time oriented passage that ebbs and flows by action and reaction… instinct are within the same realm… we trust what we can manage to over stand… the rest we have to experience to know more about… simple feelings of being uneasy can be many factors… all are not to be believed at face value… or at depth of soul… yet they are telling us some thing… how deep that some thing is remains to be seen… heard and felt… and until we do and can correlate the experience with the sense we tend to move cautiously…

When worlds collide… find another way… time is thief if one allows him the pleasure of stealing… of course the avenue of least resistance is often not the best of choices… easier is the darker road… a more seductive attraction… when at peace… when calm we know the road that is ours to wander in… find the time in other ways… it is after all a test of your creativity…

The elusive obvious coming to light upon ones mind… suddenly what was seen by others is apparent to our minds… our blindness cured… it is both an awakening of the sense and a journey of being in bare ass… a lot of questions it brings to mind… and then a lot of choices made and considered… butt then… if not for our own blindness we would knot be who we are… we would be a some one else… and that is some times a refreshing thought to have…

Lost I am most of the time… blind… deaf and at times at a loss for words to say… I have a sense of humor about it all… I laugh a lot at myself in the present… and even when the walls move and I stand still it still feels like I am moving some place and some times the illusion of movement is just what is needed… for if we believe we have… then we have…

Messing up… a fault of emotions… a fine line of interpretation… to knot could be as bad as two… the line is fractional… a wavering allusion to the mind… at once it is solid and definitive… then it is vague and elusive… screwing up is not necessarily a bad position to be within… I guess it depends on who is up…

Desires as a rule are what they are… things we wish we could reach or have… many of these are never realized in the actual reality of life… they are wants and wants come as they may… needs on the other hand we get in three folds… knot all the wants or desires are filled… the needs however wrap themselves around us boundlessly… making a desire a need can have interesting returns…

There is a saying that I read some where that all words are known so there fore nothing written is original except for the creation or placement of the letters in the order that we witch to show… some truth to that… for I did not create the words… however I did place them in the sequence in witch you read them… so it that respect they are mine… how one interprets that is up to the individual… each one is not like any other… each one is unique in their own way… finding that way in witch we are unique in comparison to others is often a journey that few would take… easier to categories the masses into the few ranges of ideals… more interesting at least from my perspective to let them unfold themselves… by just listening… hearing what they ramble on about… for in the ramble is the experiences of their life times… a little bit of some thing here and then there… puzzle peaces… threads to a tapestry… colors to the pallet… the tools of the trade that we find alluring to our minds eye… the art within comes forth… even when we wish to suppress it… even when we wish to hold it within the frame work of our being… the art comes forth… that is the wonder… the peace that when shared binds… on or off… right or left… an inspired reaction or simply a reaction to an action… for each there is a response… a notion that some where… some thing is happening… or is that just the whisper of the wind… returning an echo… who knows and he is not telling any one… for what who knows is a secret for who and who alone… from the time he stood on first until the final out…

Accidents happen all the time… an accidental turn… or twist can lead one on a most interesting journey… an accidental fall can plunge one into an adventure of traversing a higher climb then imagined originally… care… or… caution… or throwing the caution to the winds… witch is a better way… who knows… and he is not saying…

On step over the line sweet Jesus… one step over the line… witch line is that to witch we step… a line drawn in sands of time shared or a line that forever will destiny rule the mind over the matter that eludes the hand that touches the frame of reference… questions all the same are similar to the mind… an eye for an eye… a tooth for a loose tooth… a picture worth a thousand words over time… one step over and the edge is there… one step back and there are miles to go before one is placed in peril… a transition of time and space… and the next fan drops… a single shutter of light… exposed in the shadows of the photographic mind… forever to be there in time with time… an exposure of delight to the imagination… one step over the line…

Time is the mellowing agent… the curer of all ills… in time we gain perspective that we lacked due to experiences… we learn that there are factors other then ourselves mixed in… we learn to give others what they need in response to their desires… even when those desires are not asked for or apparent… we learn to trust our intuition… to speak when spoken to… to remain in silence until called upon… to forgive… to ask for… to receive… to give… to take… to share in the peace… to remember the times… to imagine the times yet to be… all the time being true to the heart of oneself… all the steps taken to gain the knowledge to act in the proper perspective… time mellows the reaction to the action… time allows for the softening of the heart… the gentle wave… the air to breathe… the lungs to fill… the smile to widen and the laughter to fill the void… we need only decide what to do with the time we have… the longer the time… the gentler the whispers… the softer the hand…

I went wandering the other day and found my way blocked… I was not considered for entrance to the place I stood before… to a place I wandered in another time… I have knot walked in this way in a time… so I guess over time the doors of other times do get shut and locked… a lesson in that for some consideration…

Making sense is a baker’s dream not a writer’s… to make in that order requires a diligence of recipe that is best left to the baker… the cook or chef is a dabbler in the spices of life… a little this or that… sense requires a strict adherence to the recipe at hand… little or know room for deviations is allowed or desired… for sense is a difficult challenge to all who wish to make some thing of it…

The out… as opposed to the in… the joy of being out of the side or doors to in joy breathe in the fresh air of a new challenge to the mind… a small detail of words and letters mixed up on a page to trip the mind and allow for an explosion of opportunities for the imagination to consider for a moment the idea of eating in or out… one is a suggestion the other an opportunity…

Being out… an expression of revelation… of letting on… of coming clean to the world at hand… of uncovering… of removing the façade for all eyes to see… being out is the expression of not going home again… for once out one has not a home to go back to… only a home to create in the new world one is in… being out is for all purposes a revelation of the over standing that there is no going back home…

Once out… revealed to the world… once stretched an imagination can never fit into the space it once occupied… once expanded a mind can know longer reduce it self back to the old way of seeing things… its frame of reference has been altered forever… once out and known how does one return to the home they had… it is impossible to be that person they once were… all they can be is the person they now are and move forward in time…

Out an about is an experience… a reward for manners well kept in perspective… a time to sit and be aware… to share a thought or two… a whisper of imperfections… of possibilities… of endless avenues imagined… and all the world is a possibility… all the times of ones life stands still… all the dreams come into the light of the moment… out and about is an experience of ones hand… a casual rest… a breath of the air… to smell the sweet scent of the time… to lock in a memory…

A note with standing… a direction or purpose is a step… as soft or a hard as it may be toward a knowledge one has yet to acquire… an experience one is required to have to step further then the day before… a note taken to heart assaults the senses in all aspects of the mind… what we leave behind we also take with us… the fact that we place it out of our conscious mind is nothing more then a storage or survival sense… we still have the experience and the knowledge we gained from the steps taken to gain that witch we have… we have butt this one life to follow the way we are on… to find the path that is ours… to gain some sense of who… what… when and with whom… it is a point to consider of all the possibilities one runs into along the way… just another step in the direction… how one arrives at the door or how one gathers the fire to the storm or pitches the tents in the stream leaves imagination wondering… a dance in the darkness toward the light… a song in silence sung loud… a lyric of ones heart written on a soul… a lesson learned in the wandering…

One can wish for all sorts of things… more is often a wish that one asks for… for it is natural to become used to that witch one gets in return… easy it is to fall into the routine of life in any aspect at all… so at times we wish for more of this or that to pull ourselves free of the same… if one was loved each day they would wish for a day off or maybe twice in a day… or three times in a day… or a week where they could breath without the other… one can wish for all sorts of things and more is one of them that we often dream of… what more can one ask… one can in all ways ask for more of the one thing they desire…

I desire more or a particular kind… more of a part to the parcel of the whole… more of that witch I can be as opposed to that witch that I am… I desire more inspiration of a peculiar kind… my wishes are for more of the things that are not tangible… more of the spiritual for the tangible are not within my realm as much as the spirit… I desire more of the night and less of the day… I desire less of others and more of myself…

A reach… a get… a desire to be inspired in some way or another… to capture a drop of some thing that ignites the color of the rainbow within the mind… each day a way is created to get there… in the sum of times we know the ones that spark the wave and the ones that spark the ripple… I reach out… and after that I allow the space for each to find themselves… my web is not large or overly captivating… it sits on a side path some where in time… captivates the few… each for their time… before they break free… never are the words for holding on… they are for letting go… for scattering to the four winds… they are for releasing what is within…

To each their own… to all a peace… the fabric of any one in particular is built from the strings they weave… it becomes the cape they wear… or the veil they hide themselves behind… there is a vulnerability in exchange… it allows another to peak inside or behind the wall… the façade we place before the true hue… it is not my place to judge… less I be judged… the balance is the walk one takes and the risks they are willing to consider… in the give and the take… for life is a give and a take… a shared experience over time… so the mystery of one is revealed… to another… each person deserves to be accepted for what they are willing to share…be I the mountain… or a single grain of sand…

Nothing is an interesting topic… for it allows for the opening strings to find a way… to stumble for a moment and then form some thing of an arrangement in the writer’s mind… a rambling octave… in search of the proper tone or resonance… a thought un-teethered…set free… words can become of nothing or of the some thing that sparkles in the nothing we settle into… the art of the word rises from the fertile gift of time to write nothing in particular… the artist over stands the wonder of creation and leaves plenty of nothing to share with others… a blank canvas is the same as a blank page… or a new block of marble… each has the image of some thing within crying to come forth… that each of us sees differently… that each of us grasps in a new delight… nothing is what exists to the untrained eye… to others there is some thing in the magic of each day when there is time for nothing at all…

A cross from another time… placed in line… allows for a choice to be made… when one reaches the cross they must choose… for the cross lays out the decision in direction… move straight across and continue on moving in the same direction… turn right… or turn left… move in some direction… all directions lead home… once we are far enough away… within all the time I have become some what tired… and I think I will just stop being tired… being who I believe I should be and just be me… so many times of late I have heard that I am not this or that… I have heard all the things others wish of me to be… I have listened to these words spoken to me and wondered a lot about them… for they held a truth… in that they were all true from the perspective of the one speaking… how ever from my perspective they were not as truth filled… my path is a singular one… a very lonely one… it is just what it is… and while others may wish for me to be other then I am… they miss what I am… they miss it completely… and that is okay with me… for I will in my way admit that I have no idea who I am… I know when I am grasped and when I am missed… and when I am tired of explaining… tired of putting into perspective that witch I am so another can grasp it… when in reality they can never grasp the fabric of me for I can never grasp the fabric of them…

Multiple circumstances converge… a string of many fibers… a series of layers attached one to another… each fragile peace placed against the next… a fortress made of flexibility… rolling versions of the same… a continuum… a vortex that pulls within to push without… a single moment of turning around in time and waving… before the edge slips away and you are gone… a choice it is to turn… a notion that one will not pass this way once more that this is the last time the path will be walked… the last time the circumstances will converge to form this way in time…