_ Crows... Do they put on a winter coat? A very gregarious lot they are.
_ The choppy, plank-like steps of one encountering a cold morning; the recumbent wind; things frozen in place. To be warm, safe and dry.
_ To be loved...
_ To love... to choose to love because there is no other living choice. The illusion of laboring under harsh circumstances in an effort to be rid of them. It's prismatic - our relationship with circumstance - coloring our eye in a manner that is either welcome or an intrusion based on how we slice the indivisible. Colors everywhere; yesterday my favorite was blue.
_ To choose... Who chooses? Yesterday's choice choosing today? Do you seek something that goes with blue?
_ I am blue seeking; my sweat stains the multi-colored cloak. Until I stand naked I am incapable of love.
_ What is love?
_ The ancients... O how I color that band of renegades. Did you know that the ancients didn't consider themselves as being ancient, six slipknots down the long line tethering now to then?
_ Cyclical as opposed to linear... This I understand; it saves me money on birthday presents.
_ The ancients from India: " The oneness of breath and mind, and likewise of the senses; and the relinquishment of all conditions of existence. This is known as Yoga." These words are contained within the Maitri Upanishad. This, my very good friend, is the prerequisite to love; this, my very good friend, asserts the primacy of love... the inspiration powering the first inhalation. To return... is it possible?
_ The impossibility of the impossible...
_ Things frozen in place... for a time. The certainty of this lies in the cyclical and is manifest in the linear. It is this living chaos, this inchoate, a-rhythmic swoon, which ineluctably paves the way for the return to the rhythm; to that which breathes.
_ What about the crows?
_ Head to toe - crow in, crow out. Capiche? It's like walking down the corridor in a motel - we know what to do. And we're not getting anywhere doing it, save for the other end of the hall. The illusion of distance...
_ If distance is an illusion so is time.
_ All is illusive, elusive and beckoning; love is the multi-colored raiment of those who no longer choose. To be vital today with no thought for tomorrow.
_ You're not a good cancer patient.
_ I'm the best; the only... Chai?
_ As if I have a choice.
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... I love George Harrison; his struggle I understand; and I applaud his grace.
... Harry Belafonte is a very interesting guy; a man who heard and acted.
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We cannot put off living until we are ready - JOyG
ReplyDeleteI now eat my apples core and all
DeleteI handed my stepdaughter an apple this very morning. After she left I thought about the core. First, I thought I hope she feeds the core to one of the mountain animals she was hiking amongst. Then I thought No!, she should plant it with the seeds so another has apples. Alas, I wasn't in time as she had left for the hike already; the core is probably sitting in a car ashtray rotting. I'm sure she eat the apple though. Then you sent the above.
DeleteThis brings me to another small story. My father was not expected to live another week just before his approaching birthday. Well unexpectedly he did not die on time but keep living;for one more week. He died on his fathers birthday. My sister died on my birthday. There is no reward. Nothing to do. Love
your reply is on frequency Two Guys.
Just beautiful. I think this is my favorite one yet.
ReplyDelete