By the lengths of my Hair I have waved in the sun. I think the stroll to the light is led not by the an appending differentiation. It is on this night, that I begin to accede to my heart the truth, as I see it from this place, so deep within. The beat of the base and the word is truth. Drawing now on the word of my news;
It is in me to control the word, as a source of truth, called my life. I am ready to believe on the controls and in the density of the noise. The calm in my throat, as I voice_ The words that rise and follow my lead are saying from and on this inner ascent, that I really think that the choices made in this quest are ordered and factored by the surprise of the self fulfilling dynamic of belief on God as the savior of man. I love the Lord of Hosts and I dream of a day, when (I can just sing the long song of life, as though it is my dream. Not that I hold the keys, but that I found my way.
So this reprise, comes from the rise of this new life. The surprise of the light lifting properties, that had been held in the dark. I am now the dream of me. Nothing can get in my way. Fifty-eight and feeling ten or thirty-three or just so full of hope. I surprise__ my deal to be the one I have always been looking for. Driving automatic down to the stage. Nothing scares me. I have been long surprised by how long the waite and now that life is here. Well, the deal is down, and the rest is not the rust, but the bright white vision of love lasting and blasting the hate and the fear away.
Realness and the view of the order of my mind is not casual faltering nothing. Not empty __entering the past… I patrol my new cast and construct my actions as acts of contrition and hope. Belief on the order of heaven sent humble grace____I want to be of service and I want to act with the true nature of my being. I want to read the send and know that I have left it all behind. There is not reason to be afraid, anymore. Lead the way. wonderful dreamer of new life. If not now, When?
I am becoming my instrument of change. It is all over me, and this is all new and the way it coming is not desperation, and that ‘once’ I thought it was the new age, but it is the old age of the heaven and the God of my belief, and I knew this sorting out would take time, and I was always waiting and worrying, and now I am light for my own reasons, because I believe on the one true God and there is no longer the strange useless fear of not being sure. What can anyone do__to the change. I sing of true love and there is no stage of reaction that can take my love from me.
I have found the beginning of what I have been looking for, and I hope I surprise and bring hope, because, as we converse and change__Don’t be scared, but my vision is that we inspire and aspire to be singers of new life. Writing verses and words that hold hope and devotion to the life, that leads the heart home to the real life within. Guard this love now.
And _____Now___I will reveal __the hope of my heart __
It is that you will all listen to the beauty and the hope_
of a singer named__Sarah Kelly on her album,
‘Where The Past Meets Today’ . She is probably on YouTube and she certainly has a web site. I’ll check that out, but for now I want to share her inspiration to me, even though, I am just on the edge of distracted.
I know she is not famous, but she has written some rockin’ Christian
praise music. I mention that even though I was not aware of her inspiration until I looked at the label on this library cd…just awhile ago, as I got up from the desk for a moment…to remove kitty from the immediate area… 6 inches away. That was my intention, but kitty is still there … must feel comfortable with my humanimal nature.
Tonight was meant to continue or begin with my trip back to Virginia. I am there. The plane thing. It flew to Atlanta, over and through the night, and I was awake the whole time, which was cool, because I was just looking down the aisle…waiting for sudden movement.. waiting to lead the charge.
My last time flying was the week before 9/11, coming back from Washington, and world would never be the same again…one week later.
Peace and freedom used as a weapon. What a choice. The events of these path years are landmark, because they describe a world without hope or joy. This is no act of ‘noblesse oblige’. There is much, that is the surviving grace. Hope, love and service. Grace be kind to Thee.
Where is the joy in hurting the future of humankind under such a guise, as that. The actions proscribing the end of human hearted faith.
We have come to know the more devious side of our contritition. We lack leaders that inspire hope and credit. We are sinking fast and the ship of state is not a bold and inspiring sight. It is an artifact of blind vision and immoral terpitude. Blind faith in the subtraction of zeros. We are screwed unless we convey our hopes and dreams to and thru each other in our community of alms and prayer. The terpsichorian dance of the saints.
What is a saint? A man or woman, who has dedicated their life to God and has inspired and aspired to reach for answers, that are miraculous and hopeful. The inspirations of lives to be lived within by acts of action that make a difference ___without. I will look that definition up for my own edification, but I will leave my ‘on the fly’ description as a path to the area I hope will lend me to use obscure and abstract trust in my own intellect.
The brain to me__ Is__ a receiver of the Word, and as I see it__ I am at least, somewhat, on the trust function of listening to my inner voice.
*************** *********** **************
I will now get off the plane at the Richmond International Airport. It has probably been ten years, since I was there, and boy, has it changed. Wow! And I was constantly re-assured by the security or lack of security in the anouncements. Modernity, by Virginia standards, but so goes the world. What took Virginia fifty years has been done in China in ten. I am wandering.
Dad was there at baggage claim, and we shared a deep moment of time and space. In that lasting and wonderful moment…all was forgiven and foregotten and remembered, all in one squeeze of mutual blasto-plasmotic energia.
I was home. My real life was back, and that still remains. I am really here in my life, at last, and that means I accept my path. I came not by a perfect right of action and desire, but by a certain credit to my upbringing …through and in
and out of time….a certain resolve to reclaim the wonderful magical singularity of being the child of my parents, and their hopes and dreams, and now that my folks have reached near the far shore, and are walking on the beach of the future….They see in me the hope they felt, when I was born.
that I would grow up to be a real man and that is what I am, finally.
My father, who doesn’t read anything, other than technical and business and diagrammatic engineering treatises and treatments has always said, “R”, ‘You can write.” Thanks, Dad.
Actually, he reads all kinds of things, just not my modern bent for prolapsed and perverted literati treatments of the crazy altered life. New ages of collapsing atmospheres and mystery worlds, when all that time, there existed right in front of me the one true path for me. I had to fight my way back to getting real. I am still not all the way__ here.
So we went to the cabin cruiser van that is their mobility and there was Mom, And she was beautiful in a very new order of beauty. She was dignified and present in the moment… looking on her first child, with such dreamy ancient eyes, that I saw her mother looking through her into me.
How do I get there from here? I move on, and it is a privilege to reclaim the moments, as a extract of the times, that we had over the next twelve days. It was great to be home and it was ninety and sunny, and I had just left 55 degrees and rain. It was 9 a.m., Saturday, September 29 ,2007.
So for tonight and today…That is all, and I shall continue, and the vein of this story… Is and should be, that I have finally begun to explore__ the true vein and nature of my future and my past. For now, I must say,