Felt a need to cut everything to pieces, let them fall and gently settle in to their right place...

Feel the first undeniably larger than the present present and where It touches.  He came from words on the bench at the present moment.  I can hear his want to remember.  One comes to, craving late afternoon laughter. The drops fall quickly.  Inevitable now. I am everything. There was a horizon and they all listened and held their breaths.  Crickets. Crickets reminded them. The child’s world is a world of purity. Though we truly believed you could find yourself in the restless current of the brilliant glaze of fireflies.  The ever was minute produces a day of days, comforting our notions, interrelationship encompassing everything, vibrations barely dissipating in the face of the slightest spark, its melodies tearing our souls away from what is merely an illusion of physicality.  Everything is full.  The first drift, we come to its top looming creatures convinced we have found ourselves, convinced that we will find a clue to explain this.  Color amidst the colorless.  Run away?  Or make meanings? Crickets made all malleable. Gravity pulls heavy clouds.  I exhale; I escape the thought of feeling. The clouds are before me. Infinitely connected, the further away I am the fewer words resound. Words tether our thoughts, our dreams. It seems to radiate by a million fireflies. Frantic genius. Prescribe value to the instant, to the eternal just the same.  A vibrant Man sits alone with his innocence no matter how far the meanings we give our words extend before him. It moans from unseen thunder off in the distance, quickly as shapes but never full or defined. Countless want to release, need a release, only to dissipate in to the invisible strand. Painfully well been, we are more desperate.

of more and more hail with leaves, sharing with the unsheltered the reaching sky, woven.

when narrow, an extension according the mind, when variegated, i will, sometimes, get 'caught' in a book, in the mind, which the more, in the implicate order, in a continuing and including thought, becoming light, until the retinue of imaginings hold within them the notion of being on the sands, naked, and are put away, origin.

like the relationship in the air, i have been like a dissolving bridge, feeding fish upon making light not only for show

like inner inter-related levels in metaphor for outward thought imaginings, i have been self of stars, of lanterns, of blood, of thistles

i have been a tear freed from a multitude of shapes before finer nets, 'rarefied, highly refined, delicate, elusive, indefinable'

like an instrument unfold and enfold without more on the less rests more and word.

self pure of all meaning, more closely woven, corresponding to 'fineness' and sahaloka in the world of word among letters!

like patience. lichen like ridging furrows when believin' finally to have been

subtle.