The interface of water and land is compelling. Soothing but dramatic; I’m drawn to this transition. I stand and watch the lap, lap, lapping of the liquid to the land. The gift of one place to another calls me. Change and transition exhilarate my senses. Whether it is rock or sand, river or sea I feel the pull to watch life in response. Boundaries are beautiful. Borders allow safety and recreation, not just risk. When I embrace this in life I embrace it in me.
Do it twice, once with the pattern and once without.
The Naked Not the Dead
Because comfort is sometimes no comfort
I can shave my hair and walk bare in the naked world.
Removing pretense helps in unexpected ways.
Foolish action becomes formulaic
when you are scared or hurt.
I lived through the summers of blood;
the winter is not enough to stem the tide or heal the wound.
I have no want to raise the dead,
but how to save the living?
Poverty is the inheritance of so much misguided lethargy
and I must shear off the illusion of maturity
and let the children speak.