Wondering of the reasons and ideas, bringing them to fruition in aging days of senior years.
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We talk through our eyes now, but one day soon, we will speak of many things to each other.
Silently recognizing this – wanting to jump right in and discuss this thing – I am patient – waiting.Only holding back right now so you can take the first step and let me know when to begin.
Reading my mind as I look at all the pictures of thought, sitting there waiting to be written into poetry on a daily basis.
Thoughtful recall of energetic sounds, carefully growing into different directions of exacting mathematical calculations.
Skyscrapers remind me of a morgue.
Once there was a desert – barren and beautiful – full of life and fun.Ordinary people with money, looking for ways to spend it foolishly came along.Ruining the desert – creating havoc with nature.Skyscrapers are really gravestones – markers – for a desert that used to be.
Standing back, watching music flare and firework into the skyway of my mind.
Crunching morsels of images, flavorful to my mind as I create unmanufactured pleasantries in deserts of imagination.Keeping pace with melodic rhythms, dancing to tunes of eternal grace.
Lighting flashes through my mind, illuminating and reflecting hidden corners of an inner universe.
Coaxing characters of intimate behavior out into the open, playing with toys of introspection and carrying them beyond inner limits.Fighting life’s prejudices and bad habits, turning all thoughts and ideas into beautiful prose.