Souljourn

djsouljourn — Tue, 01 Jul 2008 10:32:39 GMT

Distant dreams beckoning. i miss you. "Summertime is sweet." The smell of fires birth quickly sparks & reminds me of you. I am afraid just as quickly though a cold winters wind puts it out. You are gone, I am gone so soon in time...the rusty wire fence creeks. One red light blinks seductively in the distance. This sojourn of thoughts tempted by a cold rain as it falls. You are gone I am gone so soon in time...the rusty wire fence creeks. The emotions of the past drive by splashing my clothes. The damp cold fades my hopes..but I remember... the moonlight reminds me as the fog lifts and the full moon starts to climb over the trees and above the clouds. The embers of my last cigarette falls to the ground. The rusty wire fence creeks again reminding me of the pain..you are gone, I am gone, so soon in time. A long nights journey seems to begin and end, so quickly that time itself seems, but, so, obviously an illusion for good or bad I can't decide. The wind blows the clouds and the rain, wavy in the night sky. The mention d mention of pain shifts uneasily as the dim freckles on the face of the dark goddess of the night sky appears from behind the clouds. The rusty wire fence creeks...she to reminds me of you. My mind a tempest of thoughts racing and bumping into each other, yet Still Water. A feather falls from the canopy high above, as eye look up I see two owls huddled close in the cold my spirit passes them by and shivers for them, they who, who who. My thoughts take flight driven on by a thousand crazy demons in uniforms and/of money. Passing by willows weeping rain, over swollen creeks, wandering, wondering over meadows, mountains, and fields, above and beyond all that was is and never should have been. Resting for a moment in thoughts of freedom, ah freedom, freedom, O wavy lazy are my thoughts, so rible dible dimel dots, across a thousand skies I see a rumping lumping dumptinglee the path before me glitters gold but my thoughts should not be bought or sold. Freckled stars seem to disappear as waves of the morning goddess's red hair drapes over the mountains. The glowing, morning sun draws near. "Sun rises over the mountain top!", "sun rises over the mountain top!", sings the other thoughts given wings, who are the birds greeting the old red sun in awe, as if she were new as love at first sight. In thank yous she sprinkles her light across the dew drops in the grass and cob webs, sharing her infinight knowledge of the solar system in a language we can understand. The microcosm of liquid stars was well worth the long hard path of suffering from the night before. It can be forgotten and healed with perceptions of Love Peace & Hope. And look there you are speaking peacefully of fairy tales and moonlight forgiving all with your smile. After all what is a fairy tale without a happy end.0.begin..O but nothing, 0, nothing at all. Peace, Love, & Blessings, Oo0oO

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