A Knock On My Window

Never before did something so little mean so much. A simple thing really. Not that others hadn't ever done something like it, but not with such a greeting. Warmth to a sick soul. And that was the difference.

Maybe again sometime? Maybe today?

Leave No Trace

I suppose it's good in the woods. But I suppose it's good for other things too. Like trying to ditch the cops. Not that I know what that's like. Not that I know what this is like. But I lie. The fold down mirror. The place for one. Things in a box. An entry table stolen. Cloak and dagger. And truthfully I've still got little to show for it. So I get it. Of sorts. And satchels.

And that's how it would have stayed... if no light came around. With the dark. And a lot of it. Both. And those woods I don't intend to visit again. He doesn't either. There's the great part. You never camped there. No scraps. No fire ring. No leftover stumps. No footprints. So I'm going on. And I'm prepared to go it alone.

But I promise there's a place for you too. I'll see you when you get there.

Don't Overreact

I'm not even sure that is a word. Or how it's spelled. But I know what it's like. Like someone putting their weeds in your bucket.

Breathe

 Why does it keep coming back? In through the nose... out through the mouth. The fight between day and night. Laman and Lemuel. Bildad and Eliphaz. Can you actually be patient with someone you know is trying? Someone who is failing miserably but is putting in the last? Still waters. Glass. No salt flats. No mare. No. But to freeze that lake.

It's real you see. The sea of tranquility.

A Good Deal More

Hi.

Than meets the eye. Like A to D. Sample it if you'd like. There's not much variation.

Not Much for Quotes

It’s possible to see with compassion. It’s possible to see the faults of another and wish those faults could be mended–to wish that a person could be healed of their struggle or hatred or fault. It’s possible to see one unseemly incident and understand that that’s not the whole of someone. ...
...This is the way to see the truth about others and ourselves. The more goodness we find in one another (and it is there if we look for it), the more goodness will grow within ourselves. Think of it. We can see others as WE are, and it can be a beautiful sight. - Jennifer Koski

Diane of Old?

Right now you're going to work. I hope you get some breakfast in you. It's good for you and that's good for you. I get the thought. But it isn't really mine. And it comes, but it isn't really mine. I pray for you. Maybe your cheerios or your drive or your hair that won't quite cooperate or that person that doesn't seem to get it. No. I'm not the Police... just a mouse in the city. And yes, Roland, I do have a long way but I'm Going On. Smile for the new day. Don't fight it. Find out what you can give to it. The feeling may be faint, but trust what God has told you. Trust what He now tells you.  Believe in it.

And I promise there's a place for you. Drive safe. ly

Not Gonna Lie

I've seen things before. You know. Like bollides. Sally on the 4th. But you can't tell me that things are really what you think they are.        I guess you could. But Edgley is right. Red bushes won't spread. It's a red bush after all. In the desert. Think about that. And try not to forward slash again. ...I'm mean I guess maybe they could... but not at this time of year.

Really though, there's no two ways to slice that pomegranate. It's no apple, elder. It's nuts and berries. In a chinese pear. I'm not sure what I was expecting. Possibly an apple. Ish. A corer-slicer-peeler could be fun but likely wouldn't help. Unless you baked it off.

I say, there are a lot of bunnies on the road. Some will stay there sadly. And I'll try not to wake you.       Not like that CGI snow. And since when is three too long? (sigh)  Well, you know the way. Just close your eyes and it'll come around. Silent as the grave.


Honestly though, you have to push through, right? I mean... that's the plan. Not like some of the other plans. Hopefully...       Maybe there's the problem. Skip the plan. And just go. Dunk that ball. In a bucket of cheese curd. I've got this. You?

This is hard.

For, Not At You

Heartache. Everybody has one. Some run deeper than others. To not be able to tell. To not be able to show. To fail to give is a hard thing. To be unable to open up is another. Not the lack of peace. Not the lack of hope. The lack of being one. Patience. Meekness. Humility. Charity. These aren't lightly on the pack. No, when you could be swilling your gin and dancing in the lights, no, the reminder is still there. You want to hope. You want to break. You want to lose. You want to feel. But the reminder is still there. Calm.        Different.      Unlike any other.  Stay the course. Believe. Hope. Hope when there is nothing to hope for. Hope when that beautiful glass has been shattered into millions of shards. It isn't a weapon. No. But an assurance. And it's all I have. But it is mine. Pretend that there is something else for yourself. I won't for me. I can't.    ...what if the crap hits the fan you say?  It often does. We'll burn that bridge when we get to it. There is no reason to fear what you don't know. In fact there is no reason to fear what you do. You can make your own decisions. I'll not be sitting here. I've got a lot to do. But believe you me, that doesn't mean I'll move along.

Mmhmm

I saw this beautiful sunset today. It made me think of you. I wanted to tell you so you could see it too.

I thought of you. It made me smile.

...

Waning Gibbous

I know it isn't the time. The moon is in a different phase now. But looking outside, I want to see a waxing crescent. Full of simplicity and beauty. The only time it seems that you can see the whole thing as it is. People want full. The brightness has its perks. But to see the moon hover over the earth... as one of its own. Growing, not diminishing. The end is not the beauty, but the possibility of it. And it will. But I want to be there for the journey. That is what I wish to see. Some say wait it out. Others say find something else that amazes. But nothing, since I first saw it in college has ever struck me so. I'll stand with those who wait. And watch. Prepared with whatever is requisite.

Just a Kite

They ask me what I want...
Want for presents now they say
Well I can't think of much except
One thing on such a day

I want something that flies around
And rubs against the cloud
That isn't born there
But borne up inside of heaven's shroud

Where everyone from miles around
Could stop and look and chime
"Paps must out, fly-in about
He does this all the time

It's like his favorite thing to do
Much better than before
He's much too old for what once was
All up inside the floor"

But see the thing is I have thought
Of what a thing it be
That I could take and fly outside
Way up above a tree

It's been with me for years and years
The hope to go so high
I've aimed before my lone to go
Now, no. I'm not sure why

I saw a kite that morning
When I looked out past the fence
That's cute, I thought a child's toy
For times I've gone from hence

They're problematic and erratic
And can't be made to go
High in the sky, no matter why
Or how you tell them so

You've got to wait, conditions fair
And right, the touch of wind
And if you're not tenacious on
Your kite-fly will rescind

And that is not to mention all
The hassle once it's up
You've got to watch it 'oh so close'
No time to fill your cup

Can't let go or tie it up
So soon it can decay
From where it is so high above
And dive into the clay

Yeah, they have their own temper'ment
The wind they fly 'long with
It's not all fun held in the song
Go Fly a Kite's a myth

Then buzzing up above my head
I heard the whir of blades
A man across the park I saw
Remote in hand, donned shades

Now that is cool, I stared upon
And wished that I could steer 
Quad-rotored and auto-controlled
They're better every year!

A sleek and unmanned craft above
Can lift increasing weights
And capture pictures and full views
Of moguls grand estates

And they don't need attention to
E'r' last detail of flight
Their closed loop paths and z-transforms
Make for a stable flight

In fact they even don't require
That someone stay and mind
Just tell them what you want them do
And kick-back, soak, rewind

Stability is what they are
It's what they're meant to do
You aren't there for them you know
They're solely there for you

I gazed, admired and looked on
The man, with heightened itch
I've got to have one and the best
I've just to find out which

But then came crashing to the ground
A kite of some old man
He briskly walked up to the kite
Caressed it with his hand

He looked with care upon the kite
Untangling its strings
And reinforced its spine and edge
And wiped dirt from its wings

"You know a kite's a funny thing
It has a mind its own"
He smiling said, returned to fly
His words pierced with their tone

Himself he walked back with his kite
But he was not alone
I looked back from this man to that one
With the fancy drone

And contrast to my mind became
As stark as day to night
The stag there with his trophy drone
The pop, his simple kite

His kite was not the child's toy
That n'er would play in time
It were a soul, both free and new
Each flight as it would climb

It hadn't flash with gyros fast
Or stabilizing rules
Just wings and edges, nose and tail
Mocked oft by jaundiced fools

Truth, you could not command some thing
And watch to see it do
In fact for it to stay a flight
The flyer must be true

True to the kite and let it fly
And guide the string with care
Not 'gainst the kite but per its flight
To keep it in the air

And chance it comes that wind may cease
And to the ground will crash
But kites, though simple, are robust
Unlike downed drones to trash

Wipe off the dirt, replace a spar
And make a stitch or two
And that old kite will fly as good
As when it once was new

Except the fact that maybe it
Can reach all better height
As flyer learns the kite's trademark
And enigmatic flight

The kite will fly itself a flight
Distinct as its winds blow
The flyer, part, all fascinate'
As anchor down below 

The old man with his kite aloft
I saw there through the age
A simpleton to shaded men
But with his words, a sage

I want myself to have a kite
And not some spiffy drone
I want to watch in awe, uphold
A soul that's not my own