How can a story
be devised
from just an idea?

How can a complete
novel appear
from just a thought?

Can something small
like inspiration
be buried into the
ground of creativity and
with the patient watering
of diligence in writing,
grow into a believable and flowing text?

I (a seed) that it can.

people -- blue jeans -- t-shirts -- volleyball -- sparklers -- *** its -- stone bridge -- pine trees -- new trees -- old trees -- fireworks -- grass -- sonic boom -- picnic chairs -- bicycles -- oak trees -- bare neck -- tickles -- sneezing -- bless you -- slight chill -- cloud cover -- police cars -- policemen -- uniforms -- night sticks -- sweat pants -- baby strollers -- skull & crossbones -- muscle shirt -- sweat shirt -- baseball caps -- fountains of sparks -- greenery -- dandelions -- yellow weeds -- wafting smoke -- black man in white shirt -- white man in black shirt -- SUV -- Boxer dog -- red wagon -- smoke stacks -- asian couple -- running shorts -- acrid smoke -- ice cream truck -- double trees -- pony tail -- mosquitos -- fishing hat -- yellow truck -- handlebar mustache -- bad *** attitude -- shaved head -- balloon -- barbeque -- sunset -- affro -- tennis shoes -- multi-colored hair -- canoe -- golden purse -- playing band -- American flag -- folding chair -- name badge -- red, white, & blue -- skipping rocks -- cargo shorts -- matching couple -- bike path -- hippie hair -- low rider -- peace sign -- golden chains -- waning moon -- waxed legs -- hoodies -- striped shirt -- victory dance -- short shorts -- cigar smoke -- watermelon -- Viking's bag -- leopard skin jacket -- skooter -- digital camera -- creepy stalker dude -- tent building -- horeshoes -- personal space invaders -- glow sticks -- picnic basket -- cooler -- smoke bombs -- plaid skirt -- 77 sweats -- interracial couples -- motorcycle -- orange vest -- plastic ball -- face paint -- cops in two different uniforms -- split tree -- pregnant lady -- trash talking horeshoe player -- street lamps -- playing tag -- large blue cooler -- bright green pants -- humorless boy

I saw the calamity,
But not in time,
To stop the collision.
I feel like a spectator,
In my own life.

Events keep happening,
Without the ability,
To affect the outcome.

I see the future,
But only the moments,
Beyond my reach,
And outside my power.
In my own life.

I keep going forward,
Without the ability,
To affect the outcome.

Life is to be lived with gusto.
Those who fear making mistakes,
make the biggest one of all.

Live life.
Love it.
Let others see that you love it.
Help them to love it too.

When you look back on life,
the moments that will stand out
the strongest
and have the most meaning
are those moments
where you embraced life
and yanked everything you could from it.

Don’t worry,
either,
you won’t break life.
Our lives may be fragile,
but life itself isn’t.

Feeling hopeless, useless
Rejection left me low
Way too low

Death became an option
The preferred option
But no go

I woke up, stomach pumped
"******* paramedics!"
Profound woe

Many memories missing
Many bridges too
Reap and sow

Faith and hope dismantled
Dreams all entangled
Sun won't glow

Reaching out for others
Former friends AWOL
New ones show

Love and concern offered
Their judgment AWOL
Hope can grow

Equilibrium regained
Hard lessons learned
Now I Know

Listen to the lullaby,
Let its rhythm calm.
Leave your problems far behind,
Love its healing balm.

Listen to the lullaby,
Loiter in the song.
Let the music make you high,
Live where you belong.

Listen to the lullaby,
Linger in its peace.
Lose the reasons that you cry,
Let your sadness cease.