Coyote at the Edge

Within and beyond the fence.

At the edge of the forest I stand, in part.

Confused by where I stand.

Confused about where I’ve been, and unsure of where I’m going.

Trusting though enough in myself and in life; believing that I am safe and will find my way into the light; be it the open field, where I’m exposed, or through the forest; uncertain and often dark where hope is not a guarantee; where return is not a given.

Hell Can Be Behind You

Here to write, for right, and to paint pictures for you. True layers; impressions; confessions, to open us up. For you.

See. We’re not bad. Sad though the way we’re behaving. An act. A fact, and if you can see it, you can be beyond the BS. Then rest, and dream big, knowing life and the fight and the let-go and it slows down, to the moment. Shown it, the parts are clear. It’s black and white, but golden. Now, you’re not holdin. It flows through you.

So you shape. Shift. With. It. Accepting. Observing. Absurdity…. is what we carry, from there to here. Hear it. Now. Clearer and clearer.

It’s the bell. And hell will be behind you.

You’ve known. The chime that comes and goes. That distant sound that calls just you.

On All Levels

No more than you.

We just think

More or less

Of our self,

And of eachother.

Broken Records.

Every level.

Then we see it and hear it and think we know.

So slow the game we’re playing,

But they say, Blink of an eye.

Right? Like overnight.

Like a dream,

And we want em good,

But they’re all over the map,

And then out of this world

Where the lines fade from sight.