If i were of another time, perhaps i would kiss you beyond. Perhaps i would drown you in my sorrow, elevate you into a heaven. I am a hopeful romantic, i have grown around the shrubs of night, torn down illusions for obvious reason. I have traveled for you thru scorns of alphabets and dead end dreams. I am a miracle, the lonesome rider, the original drifter, a pure drop of rain.
I love my dog almost more than anything. She brings me life, she looks into my soul, she is patient as a stone. I wander around down references, sentences and lost words looking for a blank page. I have no message. I am not a prophet. I have lost the most important gift given to me. I am a creature weaving in and out of form on an endless trail over an invisible landscape. I know nothing. I see the beauty that surrounds me. The spring blossoms, buds and new leaves. I feel the damp air and the sound of rain upon this tin roof. I am here alone with my friend, she looks into the space across the field and i can feel her simple melancholy gaze like love from an open sky.
I look back and i see the grave mistakes i have made, the roads i have entered without permission, the denial of directions from above. I have paid dearly for these and i pay still. I know i had manipulated truth to fit my sketch. I have suffered and i had watched others suffer because of it. I am guilty. I have been forgiven. I feel this deep tender love as i escape back into the mystery, the great mystery, that land of no certainty, a mirage of beauty.
This is freedom.
Note:
I appreciate your readership! This is my way of watching thoughts sail thru the wind. If you are amused/inspired reading these woven words and would like to support my work, please buy me a coffee or a paid subscription; but do please pass it on to someone whom you believe might appreciate these posts and the effort to produce them.
I thank you.
A coffee !
Hang Me Up…. Images
WeyWord Times / Writing and Images by Patrick Wey