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6月28日 what kind of runner are you?LIFE is for many a race. If you think that could be applied to the way you perceive LIFE, I wonder if you have the mind, the focus, the dedication it takes for any type you may think you are. In fact, I think we all are chasing after something. However, I would have to say of my own life that I've lived the life of a "sprinter" while in truth I am of the "long distance" brand; and, that does not bode well. 6月27日 Feeling the Living"The LIFE I live is the life I FEEL." "I am a person of feeling and now, instead of pushing back and trying to seal myself away from wherever my Journey played, I have surrendered to the unseen graces -- all defenses and confining traces -- I give up the disguised faces and join with the wealth of loving and being loved. I affirm the intense infusing Light and the warmth that can keep us balanced, serene and free. Such is the sweetness we all deserve, need and soon all darkness is overcome and we are left drifting easily with the moon and the stars, or turning more to the Sunny side --- with increasing release...all anxious commodities set for the deep." ~rumorsofme~ thoughts found along the Way.....thoughts I found along the way... "To die is an awfully big adventure." "All men die, not all men live." "All our tomorrows are strung like pearls around the multitude Suns we are moving around. We wonder and regret, struggle forward, then lie in neglect of the present possibilities forever waiting to be found." "Are we afraid to find what pulls us onward? Fearsome disappointment drives the blade deep. Is it the rejection of the many, or the coarse reflection of the ONE upon whom rests the totality we have been taught to believe Will rescue us from our boring, glib, senseless emptiness? That in truth there is no magic, no miracles and Not nearly enough broken Souls That thread their way everyday, Awakening us to all the muddled questions Of how high we can go, is there any difference below? We come and go and never look inside For the answers frighteningly foretold. And why would a loving parent scare a child With visions of witches and vampires Man made garish metals shine, And we are put to wonder, is it Art, or a hard day's labor soldering beams (that will never be seen)? A simple label scratched on the back of a check, or notepad is Found some long and uncaring Out of time, out of place, out of wondering How we came to be, will Thus always be our Stamped upon, mind numbing faring. Having reached our passing destination, We rise to stone eyes and Botoxed facials ; and find we may yet wonder what lies beneath sensuous lips that never feel The desire to let go all things rational And be swept far and away on a sea Laying in wait for the rebirth Of the continuity of our Faith, Hope and Love. Never relent to the small treacheries of little hours, that only have the power We possess to give them access To our Imagination, the Visions that trip over the stars, The vital element we strive to cut out, or go around That is the spark that needs to be believed. Therein are we, in this moment... Remembering some distant past melody To which we may unfurl the sails, and know the freedom that is only waiting upon us to define... What is our time? Why do we ask others for permission that our Spirit seeks? Make your Way as you must, Just be mindful that the Life you live Will touch memories of you, in distances long ago bent. Frozen out, stirred by winds and animals; And your Grace to walk out. Scary yes, only limb on a tree, where the sweetest fruit abide on a flicker of a limb --- I know the me that lives within and I constantly urge the Self on higher -- Beyond the shelter of the known (even though that known is shredding your Spiritedness apart). Engage another in an act of generosity, an unmeasured tenure of calm, contentment, ever intended to secure the hands older now and a little shaky...still feel and carry that spark of Eternity as it did when we first met. More than anything I wish humankind to Rise above the petty tagged Brands, Flush with multiple houses and cars, Swimming pools, when one is not on the coast of one side or the other. And lighter laughter carries the load Of some day, and soon is gone away To melt with the night swinging a sad song On another crooked, too tightly pressed road. Perhaps we are not capable of being happy? I've searched for many years of a short life. To find some other one I can lay my lost search Upon...but then, how will they know what It is that will shake the Milky Way, leaving cream and chocolate spilling over There's not near enough time for me to instruct. I am relying on the depth of my commitment, the toll of my penance to be paid as we walk outside and breathe in the Sweet air, scented with gardenias and honeysuckle bushes... Why! they've always been there! Where, oh where, was I ? Let the joint burn up the edgy, ugly Dreams of those other lives. Let me linger with my guitar man, Whose lips (when they are not hot on mine) Singing stories of gentle lives who hoped and tried to reveal each one to themselves, The ultimate Nature of us all. Saddened glory waits to write many stories. Can we not just hold onto one another, Smudge the smoke ridden eyes merging with wet eyes? A warming fire begins to lay itself Upon our imagined High; Not quite ready to cash out -- Perhaps there is yet one more dance Across this barn floor; and perhaps when my eyes slowly lift themselves up There will be a stranger all familiar with my little dreamy time songs............maybe... no more than maybe, baby.... ~rumorsofme~ |
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