Hidden in the recesses is some thing more… you have to want to see it… desire to find it… that belief that it is there is what makes it visible to the eye… open to the senses… in a flash that what was once invisible opens to the mind and is seen… hear and felt deeply… from that point on it is accessible to you… a belief allows us to seize upon a thread we know exists and to sense all aspects of that thread in any moment… seeing does not open the mind to existence… believing does… believing allows the imagination to come to terms with the reality… perhaps what is hidden is a treasure… more often the treasure is esoteric… not some thing tangible like a leaf… butt some thing fragile like hue… the relationships we have and hold dear are the foundation of our being… we can discard them if we wish as being meaningless butt they are the treasure we hold dearest in our life… if we allow ourselves the belief we can soar…
Some wild notions float across the intersection of time and this place… perhaps I should embrace them more and do less with the time given to me… or perhaps the purpose is to stroll openly… that would be strange… naked is not the best road… it is however the one embraced…
Change is a good thing… not in all ways positive butt eventually it comes to a positive interlude… I have found that know matter what direction we follow eventually we come to a positive ending… follow the edge home… follow a path far enough away from home and suddenly you are at the point where either step you take is a step toward where you began… you can only run so far away before you are at the end of the away and the next movement is towards… better to embrace the change and find the thread that holds it together then to flee the changing tide… you can’t forget who you are… only where you have been and that combination can reduce the experience to a withered shell of the reality… in most lives the who we are is fastened tightly to where we have been… one cannot displace one without the other…
Less is more on the page… less is written butt more is held… more is shown on the high note and the low note… the pageant of the moment allows us to whisper… to find the shadows and listen for the winds call… at some point the temperature dropped and we melted into the ice and snow and cold hard surfaces of time… what comes next is an instant… a flash forward… a genius ticking away at the motor that is running wild… whom are we racing… know one… just time and time always wins…
In fading to black the covers slip back in time… we erase the traces of ever having been there… yet the truth is we have left a complete history in the shadows… all one has to do is lighten up the fabric to reveal the external layer… of course black hides things in the darkness as white hides things in the light… we need only choose witch method of discretion we chose to employ… one illuminates the background beyond one’s eyes to behold the other plunges the edge into total darkness that is felt to the core of ones being… each is impossible to read without the exact opposite… light illuminates the darkness so it can be seen and over stood… a certain amount of darkness is required to read what is illuminated in the brightest of lights… the further we go in either direction the more challenging it becomes to read the words we have left… best to side on the light for darkness hides not only ones journey butt themselves… light hides only ones presence… one can be sensed in the color of the background they choose… it is what permeates their soul… the intent of their being…