Morning Glory, First Thought?

The discipline of a tree, the words aren't there --- the stationary nature, the motionless existence would kill me, yet its beauty gives off a peace.

The morning silvery fog, renews the day, life goes on all around yet in the night it is renewed, the pains all recede and sleep refurbishes

The tree never sleeps, the grass always grows, it moves in its own way , the energy of staying alive in dormant winter is movement, how am I an artist?

I feel these things as GOD the father lets me, I find the words but where from? The well of true thought, the existence of His gleaming sphere, the light of a new day that’s where it is all found, the moment of now is the safest place in time, the true love of night in a day of darkness in the time of our dying, the next day is always a better way.

The feeling of life as it passes though the fingers of perception; the flow of thought in the mind of you

The feel of the keys as it passes on your thought; the sip of the coffee as it touches the tongue; the inhale of the smoke as it goes into the lung, the touch of a childs hand, the yearning for the love of our child, so that someday he may just hug and kiss you for no reason at all other than gratefulness.

My children give to me a brand new love of life brought to me by their innocence as the pink morning sky grows by second in the rising sun. The time of my existence in the year of my life in the day of December.

The trail of my life is leading me to great moments and in satisfaction truer life could not be had,

true art and love are all that we ask for.

There was a little alley in San Francisco……..

So quiet this time, I have life by the cusp… sounds of early morning, first plane propeller, gentle sky sound, all is well in life, all is GOD, trust in him, see what he gave to you, see the peace on the face of a child who feels the wonder of it all. How could that happen but by the grace of GOD?

They know, they really do know. To see them come to life infront of mine own eyes….like the birth of my children, the birth of a thought in the day of my creation.

The first thought? What was it? I am cold? No, it was "what is that?" The eternal universal first thought, "WHAT IS THAT?" That is the primordial thought of man.

You and You only

Flow into thy own self, feel the restless nature of the child inside, the escape is near, the running away from it all, no you must stay and hold out, the capture will not handle the situation, The milling about back and fore, the between the lines, the touching, the feeling, the sustenance of the soul and mind, the new creature that lurks underneath sweating, yearning for a new way...

God and nature
fuel the need
tremble you slowly over the bridge
utter a new sense and comb your hair
it's trying that does it
nature does care
probe into a new way, a better way to truth and your mind

inside its all just time
feel the output through your fingers let Him guide you in your words
suffer no more, the pain isn’t there, touch the hand of God
plow through boy, wrestle with your heart and mind and soul
it's just another way to empty the thought onto page
utter willingness to let it flow
triumph over the failings of old
watch the cusp, take a chance, boil over into romance

suffer the little children bring them to me
build a new house for those in row three
into the night I shall write write and write
towards the dawn, the morning sights
bilge under my toes and feet
lets me smell the slime of the night
trust in Him again and again, yes Lord it’s me I’m back again

bellow the rage you’ve built up inside
accept all new things that come to you through gift
the artist in me is healthy once more
write on, write on, tug, burrow and plow
it's You and You only in life and love

Calling Dr. Skinny, Pecan Mare and Juma...

Road going, words of hope, tick.. tock...

Stare out into the wilderness, what do you see?? Try to capsulate a moment in time, swirling through the universe tempting the mind, filling it will visions of tenderness and passion all the while you write now preconceived clichés that stick in your mind, telling them true, but still stock phrases they come to you from out of nothingness to be put down here for ever and ever, sip the coca bean juice, filter out the noise, and find the words to make this all worthwhile.