heavy thoughts for a Saturday morning
A weekend looms before me (actually, I am already somewhat into it) and depending on the weather, I plan to get out and enjoy the end-of-the-world warm weather. It's nice that it is this warm in January, bad because it means my children and grandchildren will be paying, with interest, the penalties, because this weather is part of the global warming climactic change that greedy, ignorant and arrogant individuals have brought about and still deny, because it is easier for the coward to whistle past the graveyard than to accept their own mortality.
Like making a few bucks will keep them from their eventual fate. Folks, we all die. I accepted that when I was but 8 years old and I haven't bothered to look back. Sooner or later, most of the villains repent...not because they really have undergone a change of heart, but because they are afraid of dying a villain, or their accountants tell them that it will ease their tax burden. Virtue for selfish motive is not virtue, just as repentence in the name of fear is not a change of heart, just a change of underwear.
Speaking of underwear, I had a nice talk with Jaz yesterday. It's good to hear her voice. It heals some scars I have collected over the last few years. Is she toying with me? I can't prove her heart, but I can be patient and wait and see what manifests then try to see what it means. Am I walking of another cliff? Well, if I am this time it will at least be my heart and not another section of my anatomy leading me to a few more bumps and bruises.
3 comments:
Surely they will see it, all those who know the poet. If you can't see it, keep looking, it's there.
In a previous post he wanted an interviewer to ask "Who are you?" And in the last paragraph of this post he answers his own question.
In those few words it exposes his convictions, his humor, his heart.
Perseverance, resolve, persistance however you want to say it or write it, it all describes him. Though at times the foggy funk blurs his vision, he's always been able to find his path again.
Diligent lil' bugger ain't he?
Oh, my friend, if you think you may be walking that cliff again ... try not walking so close to the edge this time.
Ahh but I know you. You can't help yourself.
You can't resist the walk.
It's who you are.
Twist, my friend, you were there before there was a Panther, a Goddess, a Leopard and an Angel. Despite my failings, you have been constant, and I thank you for that.
And, no. I can't keep away from the edge, it is where I am at home. The fall doesn't hurt me, only frightens me a bit, and the wounds from the sharp, spiny rocks below always heal. I'm good at that, healing.
Yes, it is who I am. And, who knows, perhaps the only way to end the cycle is to find someone as worthy as my visions, a true Goldenheart. Maybe this time. Maybe never.
But the search proves me. If to no one else, to myself.
<< But the search proves me. If to no one else, to myself. >>
Exactly. It is the stuff life is made of and it is a good thing.
Twist
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