Gods
of distant past.
Temples built,
prayers,
devotions,
offerings made.
Millions born
then die
believing.
Time
moves on,
new beliefs
emerging.
New gods
to adore.
Evolution
of beliefs,
mankind’s
enduring quest.
What to believe?
What is truth?
Where is truth?
When is truth?
Is it coming?
Has it been?
Is man
capable of
knowing
truth?
New reality.
Always new
realities.
Coming faster
all the time,
coming faster.
Faster and faster.
What to believe?
What truth
to believe?
Who’s truth
to believe?
Seduction
of technology,
future god
to billions

We Live in a terrarium..
With our lives we scurry around like little ants.
We run to the store.
We run to the Dentist.
We run to pick up the children.
We run to our jobs.
Every day pretty much like the rest.
Some hold out their chest as if they’re
important.
Others think they rule the world, but it’s just a tiny terrarium.

What do you believe and why do you believe it?
Our world has shaped who we are physically and spiritually.
We are different colors, speak different languages and have different gods based on where we were born. The accident of birth, location and topography determined who we are.
Our differences caused us to war.
Humanity’s social evolution is what we must see, the frictions of difference slowly beginning to fade. Humans being human to each other is how we must go. Humanism beginning to grow. Differences in beliefs can be poison to our cause. My religion is better than your religion is juvenile at best. Wars and mass murders is what we receive when this is how we perceive.
Spirituality is important to the human soul, it nourishes our existence keeps us balanced in so many ways. Would the Great Maker be displeased if our philosophy was to live a spiritual life connected to Gaia respecting who we are and each other; living the golden rule in harmony. Somehow I think not.

Traversing the hills,
caressing the trees,
gently swirling the scene.

Life's medium moves, ebbs
and flows surrounding all
with subtle sensation.

Moving all with jocularity.
Ripples across an endless water.
Lifting wings, sailing seeds.

Consistent, generationally
reminding life of its existence.

Rage rage against
the gale.
Rage rage against
the dark.
Rage rage against
the gods

Our time in this
existence is short.
Get up off knees
and make
something happen.

Leave a mark
to be remembered
long after you're gone.
That's what
makes a difference.

Get up off you knees,
and rage against
inevitably.

I hear the birds talking to me.
Chickadee, Chickadee, Chickadee Dee Dee Dee.
This one is telling me his name.
As I take my walks with my dog Rosie up by the orchard on the hill,
I hear another bird saying thank you, thank you, thank you.
As if he was happy to be alive.
As we continue our walk I hear another saying let’s go, let’s go, let’s go.
Sounds like he’s asking his troop to move on.
If you take time to slow down get out of the rat race for a time,
you can hear Mother Earth Gaia talking to you in so many ways.

Deep into
the bowels
of existence
I look.
Deep into
time.
Deep into
substance.
Deep into
reality I stare.
Others stare
back.
Others looking.
Throughout
time.
Others looking
for answers.
Answers into
why.
Why is there
anything?
Deeper I
journey.
Wondering
what’s at
the core,
the center
of it all.
Fog,
is what
I see, the
quantum fog
of probabilities.
The substrate
of reality
uncertain.
Mystery
is what
I found.
Mystery is
all there is!

Good and evil
resides in
us all.
Both look out
our eyes.
Both course
through our veins.

The spectrum of
us is a score
played out
in our hearts
and  in our minds.

Evil and good are in
opposition, spread out
on a spectrum a
blur in between.

Good and evil are relative,
dictated by events in part.

Dictated by beliefs and story.

One mans good deed
is another's
abomination.

Evil and good are one
in the same.

Opposite sides
of the same coin.
Embedded on our soul.

Like a bottle

into a

sea,

I toss thee

into the

infinite.


The never

ending roll

of waves that

make up a

brave

new brine.


Like a bottle

into a sea,

I toss thee

into a new

roil.


I toss thee

into Cyberspace,

I toss thee into

infinity.

The universe above my head massive in size with spinning galaxy’s and exploding stars.
I sit in my little home warm being content.
None of that really bothers me.
I got up to adjust my blinds and see the birds in the bird-feeder.
Beautiful day the sun shining bright.
The sun a raging furnace above my head.
I’m just far enough away that I’m not bothered.
The sun issues cosmic storms sending massive amounts of radiation aim right at my head.
I take a walk in the woods enjoying the day not worried about such things. I know mother Gaia has a force field that pushes that away.
Our little home barely a mote in space, lost in the vastness of the universe made perfect some how.

Echoes!
Faint echoes
abound.
Ghosts in
the ether.
Faint, subtle.
Barely discernible.
Information
never lost
yet
nearly so.
The void,
filled with
echoes,
forever.
Echoes of
once was.
Echoes filled
with civilizations
noise.
Filled with
essence,
filled with
history.
Stories
of civilizations.
All that ever
was, just echoes.
Echoes filled
with ethos,
filled with
poems,
filled with
aspersions,
filled with each
civilizations
essence.
All they
represented.
Gone now!
Passing like
ghost ships.
Ghost ships
in the
night.
Echoes
passing thru
echoes.
Commingling.
Meeting!
Ghosts, meeting
ghosts deep
in the void!
Exchanging,
yet
never to
have met
at all.

Reflection.
Look around.
What
do you
see?
Are you
sure?
A terrarium,
living in a
terrarium.
Rules
laid out.
Materials
in place.
All that’s
needed.
Needed by
terrarium dwellers.
Accept
what is seen.
Function
accordingly.
Big time,
self impressed.
Power,
dominate,
fight to
survive.
Born,
live,
die.
Question not.
Do your part,
move on.
Terrarium
dwellers need
not reflect.
Need not
contemplate.
Do your
job then
depart.
The lot of
a terrarium
dweller

Oblivion.
Oblivion
bookends.
Life is what
happens
in between.
Not from
dust to
dust.
Oblivion to
oblivion.
What was
before?
What will
be after?
Oblivion.
Life, but a
placeholder
between.
Light between
darkness.
Life
between oblivions
What to do?
What to say?
How to deal?
Bookends.
Oblivion bookends
cradling light.
Cradling life.
Cradling us.
What to do?
What to do
with this
gift?
Gift of
light and
life.
Make something
happen.
Write.
Draw.
Sing.
Paint.
Create!
Scream.
Let the
Cosmos
know you
existed.
Leave something
behind.
Carve your
name into
the light.
Do not waste
what little
time’s available.
Make a
difference.
Make a
difference
before oblivion
comes.

What's the point?
To life
I mean.

Here, we find
ourselves
following
The crowd.
Doing
as those who came
before.
Why?

Did they know
something,
anything,
about anything?

Mindless
lemmings
are we?

Are we building
something?

We're born,
we live,
we move on.

What do we do?
Who do we follow?
Anyone?
Are they right?
About what?

Seems like the milieu
is out of focus.

Time to evolve.

Toggle
flipped.
Spark of energy,
program
ignited.
Universe born
time flashes.
Universe begets
others.
Huge numbers
sparking into
existence.
Waves moving,
universes born,
live, fade away.
Left in the
wake.
Frozen
in place.
Fade into
deep time.
Program
expanding
beyond
time and space.
Who, what
flipped the
toggle.
Irrelevant!
Ancient beyond
knowledge.
We, mere
by-products.
Flotsam,
left
in its
wake.
Left to
simply
fade away.
Frozen
in place.

Lives have been lived by millions of people that have been forgotten or worse never known. People that walked our world, looked at the same sun, the same moon that we see today. Lived lives, had families, lost loved ones, held jobs. Their existence forever lost to the sands of time. Blown away in the dust of the winds as if they were never here. Thousands of years ago all over the world little boys and little girls ran and played laughing, their sounds forever lost to the hills and vales of their existence.
From the Yucatan in Mexico to the Fertile Crescent of Mesopotamia, ancient peoples were born, lived and died. We, oblivious of them personally. Yet, we are still connected to them by our hopes our fears, by our love and our humanity. Think of them, about them from time to time, and in a way, bring them back to the land of the living, at least for for awhile.

Knee deep in snow I walk.
Listening to the wind
in the trees,
flying snow
everywhere.
Silent the sound.
Just the rustling
of tree limbs
flying snow.

I walk through the forest
cleansing my my mind.
Squirrels in the trees
chattering at my presence.
Crows in the sky,
not a cloud In the scene.

Further I walk,
heading for the pond.
A Red Fox crosses my path.
Beautiful!

****** snow I plow through.
I float away
in the world that I'm in.

The pond now in sight
I ponder the scene.
Wind whipping the snow
across the pond,
huge snow monsters
I see.


Stepping onto the ice
cracking sounds
can be heard.
I step back,
deciding a better path
I need find.

I return home
to the sounds of the day,
cold and refreshed.

Sitting by the fire,
hot chocoholic In hand.
Reflecting and smiling
at my time in the woods.

It slips in at night. Stealthy and low at first.
A few flakes pick up speed as the first low howl can be heard.
Wind howls against the house, branches scratching at the window like a cat trying to get in.
Heavy wet snow can be heard plastering itself onto everything.
Lights flickering as if planning on going out.
Snow in the street lights, heavyweight thumping down trees.
Tree limbs crash down on wires, popping sounds and sparks as transformers are taken out.
Cities go dark as power is lost, houses grow cold as the furnaces die down.
Sleep finally wins out till mornings light awakes.
The storm does not abate.
Everything covered in white, an eerie and wonderful state.
Trees coated in snow, winds whipping the limbs around mimicking the haunting of ghosts.
Snow drifts piling high as others places scoured clear and clean.
The snow hammers down and will for hours more.
Smoke in the chimneys, stoking the wood stoves and fireplaces as homes warm back up relying on the old ways to stay warm.
As the storm slowly dies down the soldiers of winter shovels in hand begin to roust about, bringing some semblance of order back to the homestead again.
Kids in the yards warring with white ammunition as school was called off. Snow angels with Frosty dancing around the yard. Sleighing and yelling can be heard out in the fields.
Mom back at home prepares hot chocolate with marshmallow delights for all the frosty nose participants from this winters stormy night.

Wonderment.
What’s
going on?
Why
anything?
Limited
capabilities.
What’s the
point?
Why bother?
Wonderment.
Wonderment
with the
unknowns.
All around
infinite
unknowns.
Looking
out.
Reaching
up.
Infinity
all around.
Unknowns
all around.
Every
direction.
Shear
wonderment.
What to
do with
micro time.
A micro
time
called
life?
What
to say?
What
to do?
Sing.
Dance.
Paint.
Write.
Create.
All, in
an ode
to a
gift
called
wonderment.

We are here.
Of that there
seems
little doubt.

Why, or how
there seems
much doubt.

Some say it's due
to the
divine.

That, to me
seems like a
punt.

Humans have
always
used gods/god
to explain
the
unexplainable.

Gods are a
throwback
to ancient
times, used
to comfort
and explain.

Many still cling
to this idea,
an ancient idea.

Might there be
a different
explication?

Might we be
eternal
beings?

Moving through
different realms
of existence?

Learning as
we go.

Checking out of
one,
moving onto
another.

Keeping
Immortality
fresh and
new.

Why not I say.

So, live this
life to its fullest.

Then,

get ready for the next.

Where
are they?
All those
who never
were.
All those
never born.
Many reasons.
War.
Millions killed.
Millions more
never
born.
Whole lines
of family
future,
****.
Generation
after
generation,
****.
Never to be.
People you’d
be conversing
with right
now.
Having a coffee,
watching the game,
sharing a beer.
Never happened
never arrived.
Where are they?
People you’d
have differences
with.
Argue with.
Love,
share
time with.
Never born,
never arrived.
Their essence,
never
to be.
Where
are they?
Strange
existence
indeed!

Insidious.
The plan
was insidious.
Used
successfully
planet to
planet.
Slowly
taking over.
Slow
subjugation.
The invasion,
in no rush.
Pieces
put in place
on a
global scale.
Predetermined
embryos,
coded.
Coded instructions,
preprogrammed
to activate when
ready.
Embryos placed
around the
globe.
Thousands implanted.
Born
like any other.
Allowed to grow,
mature.
Ensconced in
every aspect,
every element
of society.
When triggered,
no one
knew.
Positions
of power.
Altering
trajectories,
changing
social discourse.
Moving to
a place
where total
control
was achieved.

Time, it
moves.
It
moves into
nothing.
Nothing
at all.
Tomorrow is
nothing.
Can’t
touch it,
smell it,
or see it.
Tomorrow’s
just a
concept,
not tangible.
Time,
once past
leaves
vapor,
ghosts
fading images,
feels,
smells of
what past.
Vapors
slowly
dissipating,
losing resonance.
Fading away.
Gone!
Now, an
infinitesimal
moving from
nothing to
nothing.
Leaving
vapor,
dissipating
vapor in
its wake.

What the human mind can conjure.There is a Creator, in my mind there is no doubt. To some degree I can know a mans mind, but the Creators mind is beyond mine to know. There are charlatans amongst us who’ll tell us they know.The Creator told them so. Religions will show you the way, so they will say. Hundreds of religions will tell you they are the one. How can that be? They all can’t agree? Odds are none of them know. Religion like Government is a human construct to offer control. The few telling the many what to do, how to behave and believe. Power tripping is all they truly have. There may be an afterlife, but there’s no guarantee. We could have been made to live, expire, then no more. I do not know either way. So, what do we do while we are here? We get up off our knees and show our existence had some value, some worth. Work to make our world a better place to live. Open our minds to a better way to be. Humanity and Gaia for now is all we truly have, make this existence as good as can be. Pray to the Creator if you wish, I do In bed every night. I don’t need a religion to do so. What will you say on the day you expire. Can you look in a mirror, will you really even care? Will your life even matter?

The
mind is a
conduit.
From there
to here
things move
along.
From the
ether things
are pulled,
formulated
and produced.
Our
reality is
filling up
being
produced
from
nothing!
No mind,
no conduit,
no reality,
no nothing!
Our reality
comes out of
nowhere.
The mind
grabs nothing
to create
everything!

Bubbling broth.
Raw.
Filled raw.
Emotional with
instinct.
Animal instinct.
Spiced with
attitude,
arrogance.
Writhing,
bubbling,
coalescing,
searchi­ng for
equilibrium.
Steaming with
self importance.
Thrashing through
time and
space.
Seeking advantage,
advantage
at all cost.
Humanity,
animal,
fighting like
animals.
Meanest
of them
all.
Big fish
tiny pond.
Yet,
somehow
moving.
Moving forward,
learning, building,
creating.
New ingredients
being added.
Always
new ingredients.
Nearly finished.
How will
it turn out,
taste?
Who’s
to say.
Time
will tell!