There is something faster than the speed of light. It is omnipresence. We seem to be born and we seem to die, but both are merely transfers on our infinite journey that has no beginning and no end. We search for the unknown when we have always been omniscient. We ponder the possibility of other forms of life when infinity is teeming with them, infinitely smaller and larger than we. And then there is the corollary, omnipotence, which we most often misconstrue. We build our bombs bigger and better to destroy more, to **** more, and inescapably now ourselves, the grand ******* of what has always been the true omnipotence, love. Some on Earth have embraced it. A few have embodied it. When will we jettison our telescopes and microscopes and feel--not try to find and see--what's real, which has always been love?

TOD HOWARD HAWKS

A fickle friendship
Perhaps imaginary,
Don’t gamble the Rent.

A word spoken...a moment lost...an opportunity not taken
These are things that never return
So think before you speak
Live every moment
Take every opportunity that comes your way

-
When the screams are silent
And the illusion’s louder
But in a fleeting moment
Reality finally broke in
Causing the facade of
Illusion to collapse
Without warnings.
One could find oneself
Fighting within
To confront the unacceptable
Truth , that
My life is fading away
Right before my eyes and
With few remaining hopes.
And lately as my legs collapsing
Fallen from underneath me
Like my hair during chemo
I’ve felt just how much
I have been holding
Onto fear,  despite living from
My heart, from the light.
Despite telling myself
Not to given into the dark side
Of this journey,
Despite my attempts trying
To convince my mind
My body and my soul
That I have let go of all fears
Convincing myself that I was
Like a great magician and that
I can make all illnesses disappear,
By operating from a place of light
Like the moon, my mentor.
Sometimes having to create
A psychological cage
In my head ,
To keep my thoughts
From wandering and wander
From my canvas of illusion.
Until, recently all has flushed away.
But truth remains
One would never know
Unless I unfold
The rough drawings
Of my life sketchbook,
To even notice my pain
My sufferance In
Between the lines.
Because in my head
Like a great artist
I decide what I paint
I decide what you see
I decide what I believe
I am, I am
A imperfect artist
Who has painted a self portrait
Full of light
Full of hope
So amazingly bright and surprisingly good enough
For even the world's greatest art critique
To notice my cracks on the white canvas.

Many of the plans
their shortening our life spans
yet you go along

                          Kelly McManus