beginning

side-wind the silver horseless-carriage up against the soft shoulder of life’s byway and leave my pre-set artificially preserved condition protected by steel and rubber.

make my way down terrain shaped by rain, wind and time – breathe air unfiltered, think thoughts unanticipated.

through trees come the sound of dry water gushing from unseen deposits, tickling leaves and pine-needles which may anticipate their day of separation.

when the epic of disorientation lays claim to green adornment, and the sharp winds of turning seasons undermine eternal dreaming.

this great unveiled story flows also through my veins; the animated dirt clod that I am – ashpile of star-stuff, cosmic clay-pigeon, shot down by competing forces converging presently in

this patchwork existence, seemingly haphazard, whispered into being by the One in whose orbit I am blissfully ensnared, crystallizes in unattainable clarity, yet there is a tinge of sadness in the knowledge that the moment won’t stretch beyond linearity.

there is an essential aloneness inherent in every life, no matter how crowded it is. no matter how many faces we see daily, can we be sure we are seen, heard, understood by any?

there is a frightening abyss I am always on the cusp of, unturned corners that go on unlived in my mind, remade blunders in a relentless zoetrope of reversal, unsaid anythings reverberating viciously, everywhere I go I carry with me an entire alternate universe populated by a better, smarter, braver me.

there in some “then” that used to be now as I breathe the unfiltered air, I lay down my parallel life and ask for the wisdom to appreciate the one I have; the deep wounds are a part of who I am and their healing will bring a mysterious joy that would never have been experienced otherwise.

so, now as I recollect fragmented instances with light and language, may the weaver of worlds and lover of all forgotten ones shine through this disjointed verbiage…

and if in any way I reflect the glare, I’ll be grateful.