tic toc man (it burns)
(though they have always been here)
Though intensely devout (in every thought/action of every day) there is not a single person in my life who could say what my belief system is. There is a reason for this. I sharpened my teeth on every philosophical text I could get my greedy hands on as a child, experienced what some would call miraculous (others mad) events, and shared with others (many) on levels most (would) deny. I learned (too many years ago) the true power of faith (much deeper and even more intense than any loud spoken devotee could imagine). I discovered how truly personal (& private) true spirituality is. At the edge of vision, between the worlds we speak into life, encompassing all that we perceive, and far, far beyond it nods and shakes ripples spreading throughout all we know (& share at a level most will not discern this side of death).
Sorry, being selfish again, but if its not my life, whose is it then? Since when did the sharing of knowledge become an affront rather than the symbiosis communication is intended to be
There are more every day with this knowledge (no two alike in their acceptance or translation of this gift); some through blood lines some through the more, ephemeral, connections.
Dream on. Every piece has its place and in our very uniqueness is found the very unity necessary to prosper.
(Even After Devouring All That Has Been)
every step of the way
(the boot does not look like the footprint)
All blind men in a room (the size of infinity) using one sense (alone among an infinite number of perceptions) detecting one beast (among an infinite number) at one moment ( in all of eternity)
(would you eat spaghetti with a skateboard?)
Use the right tool
& the sacrifice speaks for itself
The Door is Open
Articles (handwritten notes) found by Officer Staldt in the Yorkmat Forest district outside of the home of Mr. Ralph Holden (deceased) and Mrs. Gerry Holden (deceased). Evidence held pending graphology results. Dated September 2nd, 2005.