Always sailing close to the edge
on the precipice of time. Trying to move
beyond ego and, into the sublime.
The rivers of life lead to
white foam falling
wherein, lies the heart of all longing.
I live, eat and breathe through passion. Yes passion.
It’s the key which opens every door for me.
My sea of life boils and plays with endless musical
movement amid that effervescence of smoldering desire.
Pondering this and other things upon the precipice
completely aware that the past is gone
but the present is still mine.
In ancient times, I believe there were Gods and there were Godesses and then, we (mortals) came into being. We didn’t just dream them up because we felt like it, they had to exist in the first instance or, we couldn’t have known how to create them if they hadn’t first existed.
Anyway, history (her story) has always fascinated me. I love anything and everything to do with awakening knowledge of where we came from, how we survived and where we are going.
A very elderly (96 years young) scientist friend where I used to write once said to me: “Bren, we are not at the frontier in our discovery of space, Earth is the last outpost. Earth, is the last place life (as we know it) exists. Maybe he is right, our world hold millions upon millions of animal, plant species and it is the only planet that sustains all of this life through that very taken for granted but very vital blue liquid gold (water)
Why so many millions of different species all on one planet and nothing else alive in the universe? Makes you wonder if we were all ‘planted’ here so that everything in the rest of the chaotic universe didn’t all die out.
He maybe right wouldn’t it be so cool to stick around for a few millennia and discover so much more…
Told you I was a deep thinker….. Sometimes, I even make sense. LOL
In storm tossed seas
a wreck of weakened limbs
toss themselves once more
through white flossed flecks
of spitting foam and wild waves
amidst gulps and gasps and clasps
that smash them into the
unforgiving rocks and sends
them swiftly on their way once more
back into the drowning affray.
In fading light
the wind turned again
clears the way to
fresh holds to grasp as hope flew
in circles of light
and fate answered a