Being…the Artful Dodger

This fragility of being is solely mine…

imageedit_12_6775057211hand tossed.

Much like a mistakenly crisp late spring, piney waft.

On which, so much feeds.

Or, purposely perpetuated wants…overcoming needs.

I can set my sights on a higher power…

that seems often higher and higher.

And, soon out of my reach.

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Conversely, I can assume the best of intentions from quiet savagery…

the artful being that grows above and below the seed.

 

On the Right Path…offbeat

If my Higher Power came to me, many nightfall’s ago, and said…

‘You, now you are a gypsy!’

Would I have built a response?

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A life well spent will question all knowledge, not worship it.

Would I have shaken the salted, sweat from a brow…

Cleared a throat and responded with…

‘No, that is not what I want!’

Or, as I often query…had the convention of conventional…already given away my seat…

years ago.

Offered it up to menacingly clean travels and permanent regulations of…

standard manners in which to be.

As honest beckons the spirit animal in me…

irregular and offbeat appears to be my welcomed disease.

The Animal Lover’s Final Word

…Chatting, thoughtlessly, as is typically an animal lover’s way.  With the ease and commonality of a gentle, slight damp, summer’s wind.

A small, semi-circle gathered around my floating words.

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My dog asked my cat…

“What is the final word?”

Perplexed by such as an unencumbered question…

My cat queried…

“The word you didn’t understand at the beginning!”

In My Heaven

Within such a short period of hours…Pieces of me.  Slices of intersections that I have crossed in the shadows of friends.  Persons who have entered my heart and soul; if only for a small stretch of road.  Have gone.  

They left for different places and other landscapes.  These are the loved ones who have found greater and less fragile fields to roam.  

And, in my awe, there is a blank space.  Bridges that at one point, came full circle with glamour, hope, personality, both good and bad; now fall short.  Just out of reach to the…other side.

Nirvana, neither frightens me.  Nor…does it lay before me as though, a blueprint to a perfect acre of love and beauty.  However, to my chagrin.  No matter my depth.  No matter my deep thought.  I mislayed the greatest gift life can give…’the ability to take nothing for granted!’

My Heaven

Nothing shatters.
Nothing brakes.
Nothing hurts.
Nothing aches.
We got yourself one hell of a place.

Looking down at the world below.
A bunch of wine.
Fighting schmoos.
Up here we got none of those.

There are pools and lakes and hills and mountains.
Music, art, lighted fountains.
Who needs bucks here, no ones counting.

No one works, we all just play.
You can pick the weather everyday.
And, if you change your mind…that is, okay.

Grandmas up here.  Grandpa too.
In a condo with “to die for” view.
There’s presidents and movie stars.
You just come… as you are.

No one’s lost.   And,  no one’s missing.
No more partings, just hugs and kissing.
And,  all these stars are just for wishing.

There are little white lights every where.
Your childhood dog… in dad’s old chair.
And,  more memories than your heart can hold.
Leave us singing fields of gold.
There are neighbors, thieves and long-lost lovers.
Villains, poets, kings and mothers.
Up here… we forgive each other.

For every soul that’s down there waiting?
Holding on… still hesitating.
We say a prayer of levitating!

You can look back on your life and lot.
It can’t matter what you’re not.
By the time your here… were all we’ve got.

IN MY Heaven