Musings of a tightrope walker...
Wings
Beneficial Circle In healing ourselves We are healing others In getting healed We’re becoming healers In healing others We’re healing ourselves
Sort of Some sort of silence Motionless Thoughtless Stillness Some sort of waiting Thunder in the distance Fearless Breathless Brightness Flares of lightning Some sort of strength Speechless Listless Sadness Some sort of apathy
Reality Reality... is it what we see... is it what we believe... is it true? Why is your reality not mine, and why is my reality not same as yours? Why are there many answers to one question? Why not only one, the right one?
Long way home I am glad I’m home. The streets were long, long, long, No snow no wind, no rain. The streets were free and the drive was smooth The trees looked cold, all of them and Many of them had a bird at their top branches It made me wish to sit as a black bird, in poise The tip of the top branch underneath of my feet Up there, above the tallest tree The view and the peaceÉ Just for a fragment of time The feeling must beÉ thoughtless power of nowÉ Two wings would spread open then to sail The air above winter colors of browns and bluish grays in many ways But yellow is standing out The willows, all the willows are yellow I took it all in and brought it with me The endless carpet of street with the cars in front of the window It’s rolled up as a film behind my eyes The heavy truck that blew the soft snow at the side into mini twisters Without wind just for the monster truck The sleepy snowflakes danced pirouette after pirouette We left for gas and for coffee The donuts were greasy and the coffee was hot But good and I’m glad I am home.
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