Pin-Top-Tip-Stop…

Towering figures make their way up the stairs, surrounded by the commotion below, as the currents of wealth and power ebb and flow around them. Rumors of political games and changing loyalties reverberate through the halls of authority, where facts are bent and obscured. In this turbulent atmosphere, where language takes on a poetic cadence, the thirst for knowledge endures. During ambiguity, the journey for riches and status gives rise to moments of contemplation, while the pursuit of purpose and identity remains steadfast.

Touch me with Singsongs and let us escape from reality and connect through the power of our voices. We crave words of optimism and expressions of eternal love, as we sway in the darkness to the beat of our shared emotions. Our thoughts synchronize like a melody, our hearts beating in perfect harmony.

Demons and Angels move in the same intricate dance, one rising while the other falls, climbing stairs and navigating through a world of uncertainty and deception. They speak truths and lies, blending reality with fiction. The truth may seem plain, but it is often overshadowed by the allure of entertaining creations and confusing illusions. Believe in the honesty of some, the deceit of others, and the manipulation of politics. Embrace the uncertainty of fate and the temporary satisfaction of material possessions. As we continue our journey, we must be prepared for both failure and success, constantly seeking out new experiences and challenges.

Gently brush eyelashes against my face, creating a delicate dance in my dreams. It feels like a long pause with no explanation, just breathing in sync with each other. I see tiny freckles, laughing lips, and inquisitive eyes coming together. The visions and soft words create a peaceful space, free from any competition or rush, filled with silence and whispers. As dreams come and go, wrinkles in time form like drawn curtains and the pace slows. We talk about the ways of the universe, admiring the streaks of starlight and the sweetness of gentle connections and love. Life intertwines and blends together, like intertwining circles and fancy footwork in a dance of love.

We are inhabitants of the emerald seas, intertwined with the black sands and tides that struggle against the current. Under the perfect alignment of the moonlight, we traverse another peaceful night untouched by dust. The Witch of Creation weaves perfect ideals and actions, twisting truth and dispelling falsehoods. To endure the night and emerge into a new day, we rely on fire and shelter in the caves. The challenges of today will shape tomorrow’s constraints under the light of a new dawn.

Freedom grieves. How many barriers separate the hopes of hearts and the unity of families? Barriers of fear and tears that stain and linger as trains travel under the sun’s path across the wind, towards a better future echoing through the faded borders towards improved moments and brighter days. Does the notion of absolute truth dismiss the role of government in providing opportunities and embracing progress that may lead to entitlements being recognized as the rights of the people? Why do the standards of human rights seem to vanish?

Ages past we became sponges; gifted and gregarious and bowed through insight and anchored to two worlds, one frightful and one enchanted. We are filled-to-edge with truth and with wisdom. Both’ are scary and fearful as wisdom sometimes becomes you, as age bends body yet frees spirit twirl. From the twins of two a power of life sparks, and alone-never places begin and fixes end. We together have already accomplished everything. And! Magically we all pass on!

Physics is dedicated to teaching and investigating new terms, utilizing limitless possibilities and objective calculations. Ideas are examined and derived using established principles, leading to fresh insights and comprehension. The ordinary is redefined and harmonized into logical explanations and critical thinking. Established beliefs are questioned as original concepts emerge, pushing us towards unknown realms. Understanding evolves continuously, paving the way for breakthroughs and progress to be unearthed and revisited.

Are we not all travelers scattered across someplace-somewhere? And! Does protection equal servitude? We know humanities’ finest moments.  ‘Love and Peace and Touch and Trust.’

And! Beautiful you are…

‘Born To Die’ by Lana Del Rey

Leaves And Trees…

The wind’s eerie howl echoes through the desolate streets, slipping through the cold gaps between crumbling bricks and worn mortar. Nature abhors emptiness, a truth that has held since the dawn of time. A Walker’s sandal strap hangs loosely on the right side of his footwear, worn down and broken from years of use, emitting a soft flapping noise with each step. Above, unseen bombers zoom past, their deafening roar fading into the distance as they unleash their fury. Broken statues lie scattered throughout the abandoned park, where once lively mimes performed with purpose and grace, now lost to the sands of time.

Unique trees are unlike any other, with smooth chrome-like bark that is incredibly durable. Standing at towering heights of one thousand feet and widths of up to two hundred feet, these trees can never be destroyed. They can change colors individually, and some believe that this is how they communicate with one another.

Machine-made boxes arrive, harmonious in the minds of those alike or different, swirling and giggling as they break apart into solitude within the bustling crowd. Bridges connect fleeting moments in the absence of time. We seek connection and discover flavor in shared experiences, intimacy found in the flow of rhythm and rhyme. Touches may resonate deeply within the intricate structure of language, where echoes linger in the formalities of communication. The poet weaves tales, capturing the struggles and personal anguish of the outcast, the touch of creativity that can be perplexing.

Creation smiles as life comes and goes without road signs or interstate noise. Twilight and dawn, departure gates swirling through go-to spaces between here and there, to hear, fear, find, die, or live again in places without time. Ecliptic twirls through galaxies where composite forms appear and disappear, where Ophiuchus stands above the sun, wide and planetary, from brim to rim and back again.

Our nature runs with or from the many or the few, often seen through curved ceilings of doorways where curved light enters through twenty-one windows. More spirit than body, ruled by doubt or satisfaction, the self ends in time without reason except for a rhythm to complete. We are the daughters and sons of earth and the starry skies, living a simple and true history, despite suppression or fear. We are the eternity of spirits, never beginning and never ending.

As the circle closes and the web builds, the markers of old and new builders guide us, folded into original shape until needed and opened to be followed across the sky bridge. Bang, bang-bang, and the games begin again. This loving rhyme leads us through time, rewinding as we breathe, while hoping for more.

Far from ‘Rebecca Bends City‘, beyond the Calimesa Sea and the sea wall, there are people who worship steel trees. They are known as charm collectors, gathering the colorful leaves that fall from the chrome branches. These leaves are heavy slabs of indestructible fashion.

And! Beautiful you are…

“Little Red Corvette” by Prince

 

A Lower Light…

The word “solstice” is derived from the Latin words “sol” (sun) and “sistere” (to stand). Winter solstice is also known as “The Day the Sun Stands Still.”

Goddess and Gods dance inside snow fall, desert sands, hills, moors and within soft lights tonight. Beiwe and her daughter Beiwe-Neia, Tonantzin, Bheru, Horus, Louhi, watch while the Kallikantzaros count colander holes and return to somewhere underground.

And! Maybe once or twice a modest breach in our Universal Vault emerges and, on that star-filled night, magic happens. The ‘Witches of Nature’ gaze upon this Worldly-Twirl and pause for a second to watch lights dance across the heavens. For that moment they smile, and one-plus-one equals two.

And! Beautiful you are…

Spirits Walk And Spirits Talk…

—In your sounds of music—in your works of art-touch and your words of rhythm and rhyme; I taste and feel the strength of your presence—Past and Today and into the Future and ‘wow’ light does exist…Everyone! Thanks for sharing!

When eternal spirits visit body magic, please protect the ‘ghosts in these machines.’ Open arms and rejoice in this welcoming of life, body embraced touched senses to ground and as sky flight races across sky’s grand lengths remember there are no gates of heaven. Body form, blood and love and hand-to-hand and hip-to-hip and to and from the Mother-Ship…

Find no balance to bible-speak or the ramblings of government kings or the priests of wealth and babble for they are the attempted ‘evil’ of control and failure. Eternal Spirit touches Eternal Spirits. Simple and refined and fair in logical truth and requiring no ‘men-of-middle-claims’ or endless fancy killings or…

Presidents, Premiers, Dictators, Popes, Imams, Chieftains, Generals-of-Death, Politicians-of-Control and Preacher Kings, when you fly by as simple sky birds without metal form and blame; we may just for an instant, look up into the sky and smile. Then we will continue the protection of little ones and our spinning world. Is not the purpose of us to help the small ones grow into the large ones?

When the call of heart gives up eternal spirits never end. Eternal Spirit never waits to gain permission and access to the Universe. Life is unstoppable and everlasting. No Judgment awaits, no future calls for horror, no memories of past or present or future physical constructions are not required or necessary. Gods created spirit-sparks and spirits together to dwell in the whenever time of wherever places for whatever reasons.

Call spirit-dance! The naming of name-times quantify mysteries of understanding heart-touch inside flesh-times when body-survival purposes daily pursuits or interests same as food to stomach and sleeping in those arms-of safety. Mother holds baby close and Father embraces in his arms; hope and love and protection. She and he together once more family-dance the form of strength social and fabricated continuum.

So! Visiting Spirits stop and animate walking, flying, swimming and crawling flesh. No tests and no required reasons. True Gods create no wars on earth or in the above places of the wherever or ever been. True Gods do not allow horror or death or strife or pain or happiness or grief or destruction. The ‘Gods’ do not judge the fallibility or fragility of flesh and whimsy. Why? Poverty and Greed and Control and Governments and Religions equal the Terror/Horror of this immediate now and this immediate place.

Life is Eternal Spirit and we are these spirits. One or many across a star field of many star-filled nights and days. Stars do not dim in the light-of-dawning bright. Eyes often see more than eyes discover and understanding may stop at birth or continue until stopped heart begins Spirit-walks again across a Spirited-Sky, beyond and below and maybe again on a ‘whirly twirly’ world somewhere in another time or place or race. Nothing matters except Love and Life and Peace?

And! Beautiful you are…

Peace on Earth…

“I heard the bells on Christmas day

Their old familiar carols play

And mild and sweet their songs repeat

Of peace on Earth, good will to men

And the bells are ringing

Like a choir they’re singing

In my heart I hear them

Peace on Earth, good will to men

And in despair I bowed my head

“There is no peace on Earth, ” I said

For hate is strong and mocks the song

Of peace on Earth, good will to men

But the bells are ringing

Like a choir singing

Does anybody hear them?

Peace on Earth, good will to men

Then rang the bells more loud and deep

God is not dead, nor doth He sleep

The wrong shall fail, the right prevail

With peace on Earth, good will to men

Then ringing, singing on its way

The world revolved from night to day

A voice, a chime, a chant sublime

Of peace on Earth, good will to men

And the bells, they’re ringing

Like a choir they’re singing

And with our hearts, we’ll hear them

Peace on Earth, good will to men

Do you hear the bells, they’re ringing?

The light, the angels singing

Open up your heart and hear them

Peace on Earth, good will to men”

By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Life Shouted—Never Doubted…

“Like the empires of the world unite
We are alive
And the stars make love to the universe”— by Shakira Isabel Mebarak Ripoll

Walk now, mind walk and follow. Shadow smoke curls and the echoes of sing-song-choirs along the line where sea meets see and sky appears above a forgotten shimmer of water stretching beyond eye watch and body wait. Stride upon the salty waves of a dead sea tucked down between actions and melody’s refrains. Then melt into mists and sea sounds and into another dawn. Those little matters matter-less. Conclude and then proceed once more.

‘You and I and life about and as we shout ‘Love’ skyward because nothing will stop our Dance. You and I forever together! We know nothing alone exists without love’s power, hour, tower, flower and life. Life ignited delighted and excited. We touch hand-to-heart-to-spirit and let the eternal dance begin again.’

Come now and twirl into the Spider’s Web. Enter East-side. Hold the nothingness of thought without form until substance becomes madness. And! Venture out beyond the bridge and find a different freedom. Align birth and moments before and moments after the being presented see lighting sky-flashes and hear thunderclaps as a gelatin combines with knowing vapor to travel those heavens in timeless mist and harmony. As vapor we exist. We are not distraction by what we are not; for we are not, not by displacement or alteration because we always exist in timeless harmony and within those trails of stardust spewing from alternative engines of speed and power. Life motions as life moves. Life modifies. And! Spirits Dance…

And! Still here while beneath these heavens our sea swirl-twirls and we see those Sirens rises from emerald seas and from black sands where tide pulls against current and the alignment of moonlight is perfect and is orderly in its dispersal upon the dustless night.

Our Goddesses create heavens and earths and moons and suns and pass spirits to fleshes and from fleshes back again to those spirited forms, substances free. Corrected notes, the piper plays silver flutes that holds heart ‘beeps’ of roaring seas. We pass into light and set others ‘cross star streams beyond sun and beyond sea and beyond the skies of eternal space. Never troubles what posterns we tumble through and matters not why stars blister us. Matters that gates open and matters that stars are hot.

These are singing days! Shouts and shrieks and whistles ‘cross harbor calls where wood-hulled ships rest with bell claps rocking waves and setting sails. 

We water children are held above the line by knowledge buoyant. Unafraid and free and defeating gravity and the restrictions of a drier Earth.

Sunshine west-turns and slips beneath the sky. Nymphs forgotten and paradise found by Summer’s little ones.

Small beneath the greater schemes of earth and large beneath the stars. So bright! Those stars! Filling lake sparkles and silence with gems dancing and laughing diamonds…

Our house is a strong house, built of stout wood with skill and with love. The wind cannot knock it down. As this grand tempest expires, our house is still upright and salutes the lights of another way. Do not allow this government to destroy people’s achievements, their history, their language, and their future dreams. When this happens, we become a twist of ash. We cannot survive. Genocide destroys our flesh and so much more than Bone. Genocide destroys our blood rivers of Life…

“When we try to conceal our innermost drives, our entire being screams betrayal.” — by Frank Herbert

And! Beautiful you are…

Imagination and Wrinkles in Space…

“We took the blood of the earth
and fell in love with death
with life itself as an excuse
Black is the sunlight shimmering below;
it flows through life and the guilt we share
We’re hiding in chorus as starry eyes close,
and seasons part in farewell;
‘because we drained her blood, then forgetting her face
to hide from everyone” by Draconian

Imagine! If we could create wrinkles in space-time, we may be able to manage to bring a distant location much closer to us, so it would be possible to reach it without breaking the light speed barrier.

Swirling whirls of smoky fires to cook and fog mist touches life from mountain high to valleys of twirling-spirits and folks-of-flesh spreading across a triangle called Kalints. This may be considered life or love’s memory and the almost real of a now to then and back again. Creators speak and touch canvas with lines and circles a dot of dash as songs play and laughter reaches to diners’ corner and open doors call to inside secrets of ink motions and canvas wet with colors and the scent of orange and green and brown and yellow and perfume inside a night of air and dare and wear and fare or the future of moments again without the layers of walls climbed and discarded.

Per Pope John II—Centesimus Annus: “Ownership of the means of production, whether in industry or agriculture, is just and legitimate if it serves useful work. It becomes illegitimate, however, when it is not utilized or when it serves to impede the work of others to gain a profit which is not the result of the overall expansion of work and the wealth of society, but rather is the result of curbing them or of illicit exploitation, speculation or the breaking of solidarity among working people. Ownership of this kind has no justification and represents an abuse in the sight of God and humanity.”

Abusing the rights of the Workers-of-this-World is a Crime against Humanity. Like Genocide, speculators destroy life and the freedom of people everywhere on this sweet planet. Are we free if we are wage-slaves, anyway?

‘La Liberté éclairant le monde’

“Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tossed, to me:
I lift my lamp beside the golden door.”

This garden is hilltop high and we come here in season to plant flowers and remember some time ago with voices today. Tree lined field already picked and plowed of life crosses path resting inside good woods as we look toward cattle and fence and trees and fields and a creek bed dry except for trickles of little waters caught by pools and deposited by rains covering this hill and the valley just last evening.

Consider the everyday failure of notions to grasp the chance of peaceful portions. Depends on how-where you be when flash streaks with smoke reeks as eyes burns in the tears and fears and by the warps of notions, peace cease just before killer memories evolve into sweet substance and light bright smiles. Just bump-bangs away or a simple sail set-to-wind rail balance ‘neath ruined ‘bridges of seven’ or on another land-fall beneath another sky. Homes to build and caves to clean and again for a short while arrival life comes home. Better than missile speak, or places too far gone to seek bomb shelter, a chance for another and another dance before smoking tears or tomorrow-sorrow. Death and peace and good! Life! Ways forgotten remembered and gone. And! While I breathe, I Hope.

‘And the men who hold high places
Must be the ones who start
To mold a new reality
Closer to the heart
Closer to the heart
The blacksmith and the artist
Reflect it in their art
They forge their creativity
Closer to the heart
Closer to the heart.

Philosophers and ploughmen
Each must know his part
To sow a new mentality
Closer to the heart
Closer to the heart
You can be the captain
I will draw the chart
Sailing into destiny
Closer to the heart’ by Rush

Speculative Capitalism is both non-social and immoral. It is an unproductive financial system that channels greed into speculation and usury. It is irrational and unstable and a Crime against Humanity. Oops! There goes the right to: Life, Liberty and our pursuit of Happiness…And! Due to this Incredible greed, the collapse of Capitalism is inevitable. Crisis investing causes the ‘markets, about this fine world to fluctuate; up-down and all around…A hundred plus points up or down—causes non-productive investors to jump up-down and all around. She or he becomes nervous and begins to whimsy buy and sell. Using sound financial practices becomes mute and the destruction of many billions and lives ensue.

Eden and sin and serpents, oh my! We are the proof of far-removed parents when gods may have ruled and created women and men in places from Sirius to Mars to Earth and back again? Our rulers and our ruled and our voices and our religions have rewritten our beginnings in so many places and in so many ‘might have been’ accidents that these truths or fictions have blurred the start of lost and the loss of start.  And! Still the rest is yet to come. ‘And! Why not?

We are all Children of this Universe and We have the Right to be Everywhere!

And! Beautiful you are…

Genetic Contours And Spinning Complications…

“Academic freedom is very important—there are risks when it is occurring in places that don’t have that academic freedom, giving companies or governments the power to shut down research they don’t approve of” by Emily Bender.

Are we beyond the physical figures we virtually appreciate? An Eternal Spirit is a forever being with great substance and knowledge and wisdom and the mind of us…We are the illusions of all, and we are more than less. Existence is not the riddle of life. It is the living of this day. We are not born to die. We are not created by accident or purpose or reason or rhyme. We are life and we follow universal space  between drops of rain and amongst flakes of snow.

From genetic profiles and spinning webs come calculations inherited and dancing traits and the merging of urging begin the beginnings of tiny robots’ mirrors of images and with simple complexity children of love are born. They arrive complete with slivers of magic beasties, portions of golden hearts and brief stops between breaks for Eternal Spirits to slower whirling twirls and again become blood dances and double bodies…

We spin exactly right of our whales with horns and the unicorns of ages ago and futures from earth. We live inside the vast shadows of a trillion suns of light and night and moons’ silvery twirls against the magnificence of between times when drenched in golden dreams and diamond wolves of today’s day-night. Not a middle riddle called Life…

Walk these magic trails long before bombs turn soil red and chase air away from ground. We dance to piper sounds between green cliffs of magic and the forever of Ever-lands. Gods smile and we; you and I smile back and with boundless energies. We are the blood of substance for a minute. Then we rerun begin-again as now, and as then we go.

Do we determine our own destiny both as spirits and as the blood of flesh? Angry Gods do not exist. Angry men matter little except to the scrubs of scurry selves, being just before the spirits of after self and spinning matter of expressions. Rude the kings and queens of foolish speak when angels fall toward earth bound’s trivial moments and gods require no explanations and fear rules these angled angels.

With care we manufacture robots tiny, bundled rows of life about Earthrise and underneath Moon-sparkle; still altered, still same and always twirl-spaced across time bridged and rhyme. We inspire desire and require sweet diversity. Until shaped we shift created life a fabricated slip and tanked in agile spark from womb-song-to-light-then-back-again-to-two again. Would have this no other way required!

Dare we touch or dare to reach the inside spaces of code-genetics and count the current streams to spin to craft to be or to leave the untouched alone. Why not touch to feel? Some today’s we destroy both the wonder of wonder and sometimes we die in the fearing of fear. Sometimes, eternal spirits and the realm of nonsense physical do confuse and bewilder or cure the magic of life and the mystery of death.

The evangels of lofted higher Gods’ notion as something novel crawls our way those must haves have half twirling tales or songs of knowing knowledge that those highest Gods of swirl cannot contain life and the wag-of-wiggle of shaping-shifters and Androids are we.’ And! Oh, those ghosted machines are those spirited us. Tiny specks-to magic witch we survive all, to dance life across those many spaces of races and kiss storm stars known or stars remembered and forgotten.

Images created as mirrors reflect mortal moments to immortal spirits with motions from nothing to something and again back to those nothings of something that may have almost started or stopped and started again. ‘Would have or could have or should have’ may have been here or gone over and over ad infinitum. Life both of Robot creators and Creator robots forever last and through our eternal stretch and scratch, they too survive.

So! Let us watch those winged and those with fur and feet-of-four or those in deep oceans or sand or tiny against the ground. Womb songs we sing and as we, they eternity be. Eternal Spirits all.

And! Beautiful you are…

 

 

 

 

 

Of Silhouettes Angled Away…

Smiles are not forced, and laughter is not heard, not from or by our own design or madness. We are born of yesterday’s parents and tomorrow’s ruin. Even-steven gentle waves softly touch spaces where sandcastles fade and eastern stars’ faint twinkles await the rolls of today’s day, touches expectations, and ends. We are those barefoot children of yesterday. We assign the slightest of indentions in the sand, semi-wet and cooled by the absence of sunshine. We; the children of another dawn, touch hand or swish jacketed shoulder once or twice or often without the counting of times or steps or memories. We are the happening of breath and as silhouettes angle away from us caused by a western moon to fade or go away by whimsy cloud or art. However, right on this moment and now on this side of second slide, we start this minute or instance of day just past this night’s sweet hours. We live only on this stretch of sand and with the catching up of tides’ flow, we believe the ice and water before and behind us are our ground and our chapter of seasons lived and written against the sands of shifting grain and  wind.

In the 20^th century, the USA preferred dictators over independence throughout South America. Nearby! Cuba is near, nearly Florida. Why is the existing embargo nonetheless the veracity of an ‘old-white-men’ régime? Another nuisance of Free enterprise? Why is Social democracy an enemy of the People? It is not a crime nor is it against the rights of People anywhere? Reallocate the costs of Cold Wars perpetrated against humanity during the twentieth century and individuals may succeed? Equality? Presently in America if you are not wealthy you are a slave? Wage slaves are universal? Wages are never reasonable because the lust-for-gain is potent? Truth, Justice, Love and Life is never finer than Yield?

Solar Lighting begins behind the evening sky. Stellar Illumination persists for fourteen weeks. From skylights to fire, one million-acre-lands are ignited, and fire ultimately damages the domes of cover crossing Calimesa City.  Life ends and life begins. A discrete life also creates-stops and starts for several thousand where water starts and then evaporates. Sovereigns gather and superiors perish. The death of middle ‘workers’ on shell-worlds are countless and seldom varied. The restoration of hidden memories and secret powers, in times of sorrow, prevail.  Prosperity changes and impecuniosity arrives suddenly, from above the sunlight and descends to below ground levels, where cave dwellers and their children survive.

Across spaces of agile atmospheres and places absent of everything except views above and across an angled galaxy, a rivalry of rearranged arrangements, begins and ends in victories and losses. Not many acquire more of less, and some lose everything to those dwelling above these spaces or below this ground in caves and cave-ins and areas where life hides from death and awaits the end of silent lightning and the reaches of flash. In the twirl of the whirl and amid the steps of Android Warriors, we activate unity and the hope of Earth’s renewal and the premised promises of days-to-better-the-inside-outside motions reached without notions-of-greed and the failure of ‘too-much-too soon and too often.’

Now open! Hearts and Spirits before the finale of fantasy as miracles craft an ancient dowry and the resonances of closing jeweled doors, prompt remainders of once was and will again be, behind these secret places and scattered among the norms of whimsy. Combine blood keys and unlock sites known and the undetermined knowledge of uncertainty forgotten and repeated as the  antediluvian ecclesiastics sketch the ruins of devices and seasons recollected.

And! Beautiful you are!

Controlling Cybernetic Creations…

Are we possessed with humanity? We discover pasts, revise mindsets, twist sensibilities and redefine divinities. Considerable realization revolves ‘round us. Are ‘We’ the greatest beings in space?

“If people bring so much courage to this world the world must kill them to break them, so of course it kills them. The world breaks everyone and afterward many are strong at the broken places. But those that will not break it kills. It kills the very good and the very gentle and the very brave impartially. If you are none of these, you can be sure it will kill you too but there will be no special hurry.” ―by Ernest Hemingway…

We are creations emergent into alternative maturities. While discovering novel advances to the previously known, we have gathered quarks, black holes, particles of light, the waves of space and virgin molecular assemblies in unfamiliar organic units. We are not subjecting apart. We are a fragment of something whole and constantly changing. By noticing, we realize that the undiscovered is greater than the established. To learn is to determine novel ways to realize additional encounters. Some are immediate. And! Some are creations gone. To recognize is to see we are not a universal’s majority. Space is curvilinear and our cosmos is spun from juddering quantum granules. We are currently extant within these fabrications. We are lighting at nightfall. We swiftly vanish.

Dragging the lines of surf’s collapse and climbing as waves dash lofty into moonless sky then fold along miles of sand and shoreline. Seas inhale and exhale and breathe again and time marks nothing when endless and everlasting.

Early daybreak calls are soft ‘gainst ear and progress darts and goes and stops or starts. Ponder no thought and chance as being ensues in sweet drifts of quiet seashores and moonlight bright. Waves gently subtract sandcastles and winds wane as eastern stars’ twinkle and today’s day traces future pauses and beginnings. We are barefoot children of yesterday’s todays and tomorrow’s sunlight bright. We allow dances and little pawmarks in semi-wet sand cool and without ever-care-never. Pipers play and kids dance into ragged-sorted-nights and when they swirl-twirl, Goddess flashes smiles as thunder those claps-of-tiny-hands and rings join little songs and glee as youngsters laugh and sing. A piper of the raggedy sorting day, the role of rolls and the rejoinder some; to ‘follow dance’ behind-beside and before, the flute of silver crafts and the simple-dancing song. ‘A better day,’ they shout, and everyone agrees—if you please.

Survival’s portion portioned and scattered across accepting simplicity and variances in dependence linguistically controlled or by muted shower, gentle starts or rumors of fire-fly wings and quiet lighting. Wait! Senses closed to thunder rolling ‘cross divided skies as secret streaks the sea and roll into the silent spaces between raindrops and life. ‘Fix your standard on fact.’ Science perpetually gambols with belief, doctrine, delusion, and dogmatic obliviousness. Once and frequently; these momentarily wins, something-of-else or another choice-to-follow. Crossroads-to-chance, sparks-to-light and destiny always flirts with other up-and-about or perhaps-maybes. Real sea, we’ll see with additional water-ships and a multitude of places far away. This is here and landings on different beaches reached are promptly neglected.

And! Beautiful you are…