Days become weeks months years decades…life rolls quickly
a train on tracks straight toward tomorrow from yesterday through
what we know, dream, plan and scheme through walls of sleep of
tears of joy pain fear courage and mirror images; balanced or
not…always where we look and live, love and lay our heads down to
sleep to dream to hold and to be.
A single line flows through time that is us, is the “me” is the “you” is a
thin motion of living weaving twisting through the spaces between here
and then, there and here, encapsulating the vibration that the universe
knows us as; the beating bleeding seeing believing human-being always
competing something that knows but doesn’t and is forever searching for
an end to the beginning.
My line flips up and over, ducks under and around, slides forward
past the lip where the universe begins, past the point of no return, past
where none of us can see yet all of us know…around and around with the
full intent of reaching past its own reach, grasping at physical emptiness
emotional fullness…something worth grabbing holding having and
living within and with.
Your line slips the links of passionate living, flowing simple and soothing
toward the underside of today willing itself, yourself, into a completeness
missing from mine, from my ideas and thoughts…your line mingles and
converges; a supple twisting meeting seeing fine feeling of love and
warm happiness wound around smiles and tears and fear and moments
lost and found.
Lines of convergence braid, interleave…ride the waves of time and energy and
feeling and emotion always flowing always going always about to be something
without changing what they are…becoming new and old in turns like pulsating
patterns of stars forever shining showing darkness glowing a night sky held
in arms of love and dreams…in hearts of history…
in lines of me and in lines