Change

Mountains nor Molehills – Audio Update

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Art – Matt Chambliss

Music – Hans Zimmer – Inception – Time

I sense the vibrations deep within me
Foundations quake, shaking that which once was firmly held
What was assumed to be eternal falls around me in pieces
Like glitter in a globe it slowly swirls, gravity accomplishing its work
I watch it crumble and tumble, down, down, down
Currents of anxiety keep it aloft past its time
It needs to settle, I need to settle
An active passivity restrains my impulse to jump, to move, to seek distraction
Let it settle, it needs to settle, don’t stir it up again

New awareness is finally breaking the old making room for what is not, yet
But the birth is like the grinding of hard stone and dust
Shifting of the plates, a new geography is forming
It threatens home and kin. They feel it too
But crisis calls for calm, don’t feed it, don’t jump
Old rifts will be mended, new vistas will emerge, danger and hope coexists
I can make neither mountains nor mole hills
The power is at work in me, I am not the Maker, I am being made
I will not jump, I will wait, and watch, and listen to the stillness

I Am – Kinda (Audio) A little Southern Mysticism

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Image result for cheap carnival spookhouse image

I am

But who is saying that

This is me

The same one who sucked his thumb

But who is observing the me thinking of the me

I am the same

I have observed the changes

In my body

In my thoughts

My experiences

My beliefs

My habits

My desires

But all of those things are not me

Me is back here watching

Observing

I am beginning to remember that I forgot

I have missed me

I searched for me in many places

I have looked in the reflections and have mistaken me for them

To suck my thumb feels awkward now

Funny how I once was so attached to it

I am guessing there are things I am attached to that are as transient as my thumb even now

It is interesting to have the awareness back that I had as a child

Observing and wondering, separate from the Self, the Ego, at least sometimes

Fear must have created that projection I called me

Well, some of it

Some of it is OK and is part of my groove

I think fear must have built the rest because it seems fear is what enforces the construct and dread guards the exits

But like a carnival spook-house been through several times, I am getting bored with it

I am yawning, its so 1-2-3 now jump and . . . Que the strobes, now crooked mirrors and fog and skeletons and turn the corner where the drug addict Carney jumps out and yells

The fear is getting be to quiet lame, much like the raggedy clown that pops out of the dark place and flops around on worn springs

Turning the lights on reveals the primitive, laughable, side show that has held me hostage

I think I’m gonna look outside the mirrors and the cheap carnival and try to remember the one who has been watching

See if he is still around somewhere

The source of all the reflections

I like my Self OK

But I am more than what I have created

And the dude at the exit has warrants

He won’t bother me if I really want to go

 

The Light is Changing (Audio)

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The Light is changing

The heat is falling off the days

One by one

The earth is gathering

Elements of the Fall

Summer has run its course

I wait and watch and listen

Here in the time between seasons

The space between times and seasons is sacred

It is the time of ferment

After harvest but

Before the new wine is ready

It is the place of longing and reflection

Dragonfly on Cedar

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Dusk’s darkening shadows fall, filling the space left by light’s waning

Stillness settles and calms the earth

Cool quiet currents come to rest

A time between times, a place between places

A threshold, a punctuation approaches

Signaling the end of one and the beginning of another

A small mark at the end of an epic is required

For without it The End can not be pronounced

Without the End a new beginning will never commence

Soft, delicate, almost imperceptible it came

Crossing over from one to the other

Marked by a Dragonfly on Cedar

It is finished in eternity now, recorded, done

As those tiny feet completed the circuit a surge of energy haloed

A memorial to what has been, and a final punctuation marks the end

I remain altered, etched, and inscribed upon

As the credits roll and fade into black, film slapping against the reel

I awaken as if from sleep and reach ever so tentatively ahead

Seeking purchase, a resting place to begin what is to come

I hold lightly to the known and trust that dawn’s new day already approaches

Like a dragonfly on Cedar

Silly Putty

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Image result for image silly putty comic

I feel the grief behind my eyes, in my throat

I did not realise that it was there till just now

It is the reason the world has gone flat

Like a comic strip

Shapes and colors and words

In two dimensions

I wish I had some Silly Putty

To hold and squeeze and smell and feel in my hands

I could capture the images and make them my own

I could stretch them into new shapes

Add more depth

Some times seeing things backwards can help

A different angle may be what I need

Maybe then I could find a place for the past to rest

There is sadness in change

Even when it is necessary and right

Sighing for what is not requires my attention

Even as I create what is, and is to come

I think I will go find some Silly Putty

I need to play

Seriously, I need to play