Spin World is celebrated. World is good; as is balance of wheel, syncopation true, symmetry of cut grass-to-lawn-to green-grow-too-to- ‘from’ then cuts again to match eye’s sight either wrong or right. Needs to cheat each-to-other, one or two then more too many score before others-do-to-you survival required to win to lose too many to count or rout before the ‘over-of-out’ begins again? Then spin us twirls of balance-speak of world perfections of balance squeak when one thing dies while others survive the lies of imperfect Gods’ whirls, imperfect twirls from nothing losses and nothing gains. Then ‘we all’ again remain…
Your eyes get stung by the rays of the sinking sun
You follow the drum keeping time with everyone
Going beat beat, it’s beating me down
Beat beat beat beat, it’s beating me down
Day after day, it’s turning around
‘til all my days are drowning out’…written by Beck Hansen
What causes happiness? Who dares control happiness, a government or person, or a religion? Our innermost voices clarify what and what not to do. Just listen! Mind washed since birth; tis the survival of ‘a’ pack. However, all packs ubiquitously run same, eat same, same be-we; fast-slow, weak-strong-hungry-not-smarter than a what and still love our young ones. And! Maybe only reason ‘We’ be, donchaknow. Imagine! Just make believe that when we wake-up, Love-Peace and Understanding is always the world of reality and we have accidentally been watching a horror film in a theater from hell and for our entertainment only.
Illustrate now those pictures; of these caves and these walls and these tribes of we and me and us and them and before the storm and after the end of rains of winds and bumping things and silent shrieks, once loud and now absent from ear and fear and tear. Sounds of life understood ‘cross a million miles of rock ‘n’ roll till another day of storms and another night of passion shadow dance beneath a star-lighted ceiling. Again! Share moments and lives and the sovereignty of animation. Blood and love are the matter of the matter and the survival of survivors from whatever gods and from wherever storms.
When silence completely fills all senses with rumble and clatter and music and notes, chaotic or symphonic simplicity. Then duality ceases and singularity melts into universal polarity and truth.
We labor in these fields beneath sing-song wires and lengths of wave grain toward the forever of sight while out or in and back again. Brushed wind and white tunics and seagull wings waving over soil black and breeze, seeded with hands to-bags-to-sky-to-flip ‘cross ground rich, water ditch to return ‘til tunic loss shapes and disappear into the bluest evening mist of planet wash and evening spin.
We circle now toward forked roadways beyond sighted-righted places and our stars of guiding trails twisted, misted, shakes and quakes push-pull us toward left trails or right paths. Guiding compass, lodestone or stars point the way in only one direction to go and to return toward this direction taken always pointed and pointing toward us…
Remember that we have the right to be Everywhere.
And! Beautiful you are…
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