What Mortals!

Each time I return

It is as a Stranger

Earning again through unfamiliar lands

Knowing not the traps & triggers

Of permissible behavior.

But a good grasp of generalities

Keeps me fed.

I came here for the Greatest Adventure of All Time

When time was not real, but a construct in the minds of eager energies

Spinning on what started as an intoxicating play of light & shadow:

Hide n seek: we hid God: Now we seek.  

Ah what fools! What mortals we turned out to be!


One Eternal Day

Life stalks me somehow. Even when I shave my head & hide,

I look out to see Life peering in, making sure I live in this kingdom.

Life needs me – yeah that’s what I tell myself, when each path

Leads me right around into the fray;

When each stream by which I meander empties into

An ocean where I’ve stood many times

Watching myself set sail

On the voyage of this

One Eternal Day.

I know now the drama happened

When I wandered into a fractal

Seduced by a happier ending.

I moved through much & into many –

Lifetime by lifetime, like stones across moving water

Each an enactment of what I’d learned in the past.

That’s why they began to stick together…

The rowhomes in my mind,

Each with a ghost in the attic.

The closer I am to sunset

The more I see in the also-familiar darkness.


If you believe in monsters, they’ll devour you

If you do not, are you incautious?



I believed in monsters more before

Than now.

I was concerned once upon a time for myself

But now I really want to avoid the collateral damage.

Knowing how we’re all connected, & that.

I haven’t run away for years now.

It’s time.

There is no connection.

Every haircut is a rebirth, a do-over.

Then I look in mirrors to say, “Still not you!”

“You’re that Universal Kelly Girl with a new ticket down on Market Street.

Get your gloves on, girl, we leave soon.”

There is only a real world when you start divesting from it.

The world clings … a scarf … a stone.

Set these aside; the NWO is right in wording if not intent:

          You will own nothing & be  happy.

                    It’s not a threat, they don’t own that.

                    What happens with birds of the air who own nothing

                              Yet to whom all is given?

                    So are we meant to be.

Source tickles us with Light, sudden flashes,

          Snapshots well-laden with memory –

                    An afternoon in a fall of light to camera

That moment the wave became particle

A paint-ball from your pineal to mine, so tenderly awakening

From its dream of light to our Reality.

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