some days are just like this.....

"Trying to define yourself is like trying to bite your own teeth"

Alan Watts

mirrors

"Where I begin is all one to me. Wherever I begin I will return again."

Parmenides
fragment V

Circling Back

" The heat is rushing past, vying for the dust and air for purchase on my skin. the metal on the dash burns my foot-the sweat dripping off the back of my legs.
The grass blows like waves across the mountain creating thermals for the hawk's hunt above.
The oaks follow the river- as do I- each seeking respite from the day's white light.
The season has released the thistle on the path. Months of running this solitary emotion across the valley will protect my feet- they feel no more than anticipation as the door handle closes on the mobile oven of the truck.
This grove has become my haven, my fountain of youth; this shaded, shadowed ribbon of green that I hunger for almost as much as what it will share with me.
The cool air soothes my spirit as it dries the back of my neck; now free of the sun's glare thru the window, trapped in the cab. The breeze caresses my skin, now also free to drink in the pool at my waist, now tingling with cool moisture, air drying in my grove of beauty.
Time will once again stop as I walk the river's edge, crushing the suede of moss against the trunks of my Nature's Pathway........my mind will hold so much more.
I reach to trace the sway of a cottonwood seed trapped in a working web of light, commanded by a determined spider. the air sighs against my breasts, tightening my tummy with the knowledge that this is something to remember always....As I am......
I am touched by the feeling of a glance
The sun shafts make focusing difficult in the distance-
I feel a warmth wash over me as I start back across the rocks, towards an outstretched hand'
Hat forward to shade, in the shade
Boots balanced on a limb
Fingers cradling a flower of chamomile---offering
I come as I am...
Etching all I sense on my memory...
I will remember this moment....
(and have)
My banquet by the pool...
My love flowing as we drink of the creation of a memory.
As time dehydrates my soul, I remember the coolness of the rock against my back, and the angle of the boot against the backdrop of a river bank..
discarded with my innocence, breathing and beating in the mote trembling air. "

stumbling onto an idea..........

I've been blindsided by the search, again. Heading toward an intention, and getting sidetracked by my subconscious. How many times have I uttered the absolutes, "I will never!!!"? Writing is not an alien concept; public scrutiny is. I suppose I can just set aside that preconceived limitation..........at least until my own cleverly crafted reality kicks in. it is interesting that I have no expected outcome for this medium. Unusual, at least for me. I'm going to sit back and enjoy the ride..................