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I walked through many paths,
Hoping that I'd end up with what I wanted to get,
Like a cat running after a rotten rat,
While fate gave its biggest laugh, watching me from above as it sat.

I found myself in the same doorway,
Even after a million decisions and decades worth of actions,
So scared to step in that hallway,
I turned my back on it and walked against the day.

The thickest wall built on earth,
Giving up against the fear of being third,
Perhaps I'm just setting a dam against my destined mirth,
An already written holy fate is dragging me toward a rebirth.

That insistent path could be my saviour, for certain.
I guess it's time for me to change the weather,
And perhaps it's time for me to open new gates, open my eyes or just open the curtains.
I guess I just wanted to hold onto that one I need to burn, that decade old wormy letter.

Locking every door and throwing away the key,
Was all along the necessity for one to be-
Able to bud in the new beginnings in which one needs to be.
That lost one who found a new hive after flying for 40 days, a honeybee
Loyalty, resignation, embracing, and acceptance all are for that holy & aware entity.
Through our days, they come & go
Shadows all through afterglow,
Some make impact, some obtuse,
Hilariously, some are loose....
Occasionally, one you love
Soaring through the clouds, above....
Then, again.... the ones you hate
Grit your teeth and aggravate?
But best of all, there's those that laugh
Bust the gut enough to ****!!!
Them's the best, my errant friend,
They'll last you till.... the very end!

M@Foxglove.Taranaki.NZ
Joshin with my old sidekick, Don Bouchard.
Another character from another time.
Unshaven, old, and nearly spent,
He slouched in his kitchen chair,
Lungs rattling wheezing breath,
Radiation doing little then,
To control the mass within, or
To prevent the Mass he knew
Would soon begin.

Hard to believe a man
So tough as Rubin always was
Sat stubble-faced and wan
In early morning sun.

Two years ago,
At 65,
He and his son
Put a ****** on,
Fought a cop,
Nearly won,
Stayed a week in jail,
Paid a $7000.00 fine,
Then bragged it all
Was worth the time
And memories.

I saw him jump,
At 66,
From a moving van,
Six feet up
Like a younger man,
Hell bent to take his fill,
Shoveling hard, cursing still,
Cigarette hanging loose
Even with a rattling cough
(He shrugged it off)

And then,
At 67,
His last remains crave no nicotine,
No *****, wayward fights,
No carousing old man libertine
Out with his son at night,
And we who watched Old Rubin's days,
Pay our respects and go our ways.
Men I have known....
Vastness on high
In a troposphere of sky
Delicately blazed
And so intricately phased.

This cavalcade of cirrus
With a slash of errant wind.....
Then, behold, with bravado,
To let the stampede begin.

A clash of hooves at gallop
Across a turquoise sky,
Joins the thunder of the passing,
With the scream of equine cry.

There's Mare's Tails in the Heavens,
In a symphony of song
And the Gods roar embellishment
At the righting of all wrong!

M@Foxglove.Taranaki.NZ
Variations on a theme... for in tonight's clear blue sky, across the vastness of the grey Tasman sea,.....
The Mares Tails extend, hugely on high, heading our way, indicating the arrival of the harmony and celebration of our late Winter Solstice.
M.
for
she, an unending gift of inspiration,
a thank you for learning me a new word
Hungry for the sharing

<>

Cloud-busting: Mare's tails -
"Horse tail clouds," also known as "mare's tails," are a type of cirrus cloud characterized by their thin, wispy, and streaky appearance, resembling the tail of a horse. These clouds are composed of ice crystals and form at high altitudes, typically between 5 and 10 miles above the ground. They are often associated with approaching weather changes,
particularly warm fronts, and  may signal
the possibility of rain or increased winds."

<>
With newly acquired knowledge,
Comes new responsibilities
No longer is a fleece flecked blue aureola sky
Just a harbinger of good tidings,
Its inner working require further investigation,
And a new concern must now,  by instigation
to be attended, by instantation

So it is.
With every column, differing opinion, advice, new knowing,
comes
Those **** burrs, that irritate but don't break the skin,
Concerning, demanding discerning, and unthinkable.
Now
Attention must be paid.
Ah,
Paid.

Perhaps trivial, perhaps not, but
The less the ignorance, the more the bliss?

We turn to each other,
And only to each other,
Whisper great fears of what yet to be,
Things so commonplace now,
As to be unthinkable!

Will our descendants ever know
A dry faucet?
Days when electricity is only available but for a few hours,
Toilets that are illegal to flush?
When when,

those
systems that with witch we pay so little heed,
we do not concern us now,
Routine, unseen, and someone else's responsibility,
Be luxuries in the future?

Can I with conscience clear see a most excellent daylight,
And not seek out, worry about, the wispy warnings of
Horse tail clouds?
Brilliance of a deep blue sky
Whipped about on high
Mare's tails in their latticed way
Spray across my sky.
Wind aloft and rising
In its wild mercurial fling
Driving cavalcades of galloping
White mares to offering....
A magnificence on high
In a quotative display,
Stampeding into vastness,
To illuminate my day.

M@Foxglove.Taranaki.NZ
He walks alone, the path unsure,
Yet sees beyond the present lure.
With eyes that pierce the veils of mist,
He speaks of truths the world has missed.

Clad not in robes, but thought and air,
He heeds no crowd, nor seeks their care.
A whisperer of winds and time,
He answers not to man nor clime.

They mock his gait, they jeer, they laugh—
Yet drink his words by quartered draught.
He is the stone the builders spurned,
Yet in his silence, worlds are turned.
An observation for the young and gifted Emirhan Nakas
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