I showed up at the border with a story of woe…
“What brings your kind here?” had been the Kind Words.
“A footprint in the puddled masses. A wrongful tint to once rose-colored glasses.”
An Unarmed Angry Man spoke,
“We have no care for you!”
“But I am only looking for the town they say to be filled with despair. I am not seeking anything that is fair.”
No way of telling where they came from.
A bi-color carpet rolled out like a long luxurious…Blue Grass song.
Soon enough a cluster of curious cattle. Over took my steel steed. As the midday sun cracked my skin. I awaited…for their cumbersome judgment.
For what seemed like hours…The four legged Zen Masters stared down my bewilderment with discontent.
Eventually, a nod of approval from the ‘grunge’ gang. With that…I continued my ride. But not without a dusty revelation.
‘I know we will all meet again. Minus my pride. We will all meet again! On the other side.’
There is a point on this dusky bi-way. Where you drive into heaven. No gates, no end, no beginning. A slow moving climax of Glory and Gods lay ahead. Just rummaging around in petite country shacks.
Beyond the medicinal huts of cedar shake…Workers of varying beliefs. All on a pilgrimage to move emancipated stone.
‘No task more difficult to conceive than to adjust acres of rock…Until it sets the soul right!’
Grandiose gorges have been built on the premise of pride. And, without warning, a lost river and life collide. Waters sweep thru with an icy hand and wash the work away.
It is my theory that this is why the environmental/philosophical/exterior decorator…arrives.
Among many of us. Those considered lost. Those believed to be vagabonds. Poets and artists seeking their do. All of these and so much more…Such as myself…
Attempt the impossible…
Only to walk away with this conclusion…
‘Sometimes you can take things away. A gust of retrospect…Perhaps! Yet, in the end, it all washes away to a greater scheme. One we have yet to understand.’
A grandfather is talking with his grandson and he says there are two wolves inside of us which are always at war with each other.
One of them is a good wolf which represents things like kindness, bravery and love. The other is a bad wolf, which represents things like greed, hatred and fear.
The grandson stops and thinks about it for a second then he looks up at his grandfather and says, “Grandfather, which one wins?”
The grandfather quietly replies,
‘the one you feed!’
13th day of dismal, delinquent weather! Today, I must make my own sunshine!
“My uncle ordered popovers
from the restaurant’s bill of fare.
And, when they were served,
he regarded them with a penetrating stare.
Then he spoke great words of wisdom
as he sat there on that chair:
“To eat these things,” said my uncle,
“You must exercise great care.
You may swallow down what’s solid,
but you must spit out the air!”
And as you partake of the world’s bill of fare,
that’s darned good advice to follow.
Do a lot of spitting out the hot air.
And be careful what you swallow.”