Doors for sheep

We face the sun as we walk, with the light in our eyes--and at the blurry end:

We learn to come back.

Paradoxes of worries

Every night I see this moon;
it is a moon I'd like to see.

Contrapuntal Wading

I've never wanted so badly to take off my shoes and find that running far far far would lead me to a cave that would, in turn, lead to a beach.

Lately, music has taken a wonderful turn.  For the first time, i feel a wonderful counterpoint. You walk in the darkness and on the other side are the hues of the day and the tiny crystals in the wet sand.  You turn around the corner of a cliff, and the sun beams in on you as you jump into precarious waters.

In the end, I run my fingers through wet sand----feel water pass through my toes.

When it rains, close your eyes

When it rains, it is often nice to find that you can close your eyes.  You can follow the sounds without having to see and your body can move with improvisation.

Today, I worked on music all day.  The raindrops outside felt like millions of amplifiers sending out the sounds----Or liquid crotales resonating...

Oh, i was just sweating sensitivity from my eyeballs...

How does one control this flood of emotion that radiates from some unknown core?
Language began to fade into murmurs and buzzes; jokes were stabs of "why can't you understand?".
Slowly, translucent walls grew labyrinthine around me.  I could see out, I was there, but I was apart.

and so i perspired, out my eyeballs.
and there is just no proper deodorant for sweaty eyeballs.

W.A.N.D.Y

We are not dead yet.

Sparklers sparkle to fill a whole

Dear :
the lights are always volatile
and shatter
into electric icicles
over and over and over

What am I saying?
Ah, in hopes
that it always goes to one.