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Collecting rhythms as they fall upon my ears, staking their claim
Creating poems in written times, giving many thoughts an escapeinto better routes of sensations.Qualifying the existence of everyone who claims their voice inmemory of lifetimes on scores of paper.Composing the essence of everything good held inside, giving into pressures of life as they reach up to grasp my mind and heart.Taking care to never forget…
Andrea Boccelli singing beautiful Italian words and phrases,
Heart responding to his voice, reaching out to grasp feelingsof the past, finding familial ties still readily intact.Life beats vibrating with melodies, being sung operatically,and sent straight to our souls, lifting us spiritually toheights of intense freedom and happiness.
Stroking saddened recollections throughout life, I follow them into abysses, learning from all they contain emotionally.
It’s all outside of my inner being, although I know it’s within me always.
Climbing rocks up the sides of mountains,
of falling.Knowing exactly how to continue upward, no fear gettingin the way of what I wanted to do.Life tempting me in every way, moving in directionsunknown by others, continually rising above obstacles.Walking through catacombs, finding my way out of thedarkness and into a spiritual light of beauty.
Mountains stretching across my vision, pulling my mind in many directions while writing.
So soft, ragged, prickly, satin-like, they arrange themselvesin patterns with my senses.Quality images that no one else can see or feel, just gettingan idea of what my mind can do.