twirling bodies and witching eyes
yellow moon turning tides,
I found liberation in the dark of night.
A Moment Gone…
Those fleeting moments they always come…where you think youhave found the answer or the words to say – when you’re so sure that when you put your pen to paper all the ideas and passion and fire inside of you will pour out like a crystal waterfall, flowing into life. And you will find freedom and liberation in your thoughts and weight will lift off your shoulders, lift like a bird taking flight for the first time after so many feeble and failed attempts, almost discouraging – but something inside told you to hold on and then that first flight - it just lifts you up. Worth the wait. Though still, fleeting. And you’ve seen the other birds in long, graceful flights of triumph, you’ve listened to their hum…their beautiful, esoteric hum – filling your ears, your heart, your body, your soul – their beautiful hum and you wish that could hum like the other birds on your flight. Singing your heart song, just going. And you don’t know where ‘cause that’s fleeting too. Sense, flight, humming. Where am I going? Nowhere. Fleeting. What if we could harness it, get it to stay just another moment. Just keep flying and humming and going. Nowhere. Oh, to be like a bird. That’s what they do – fly and hum and go. Work their whole life for the first trip to the sky, but writing, man, we could right every day and never take our first flight. Never get to sing or hum or go. Never get anybody to sing or hum our song – filling their ears, their heart,their body, their soul. Taking them over. Those beautifully heartbreaking words. So much power in words but not many people who know how to use them. You know, I used to think humans were animals. But we’re not. We’ve removed the “nature” from “human nature” like we’ve cut it out of our physical world. Cutting the trees, polluting the air. Us humans, we don’t know how to use the one single thing that separates us from other creatures: words, language. We’re not animals – birds know how to usetheir wings, fish their gills, tigers their teeth – but humans don’t know how to use their most potent feature: their WORDS. But why? Because we’re disconnected from our minds, our hearts, our bodies, our souls – the language of our vessels that govern our being – we are removed. How can we be expected to find the words to say, to write, to hum, to sing, when we don’t even know the mind they’re coming from? It’s like trying to read the pages of a closed book. But the fliers, the hummers, those rare thinker-feeler-speaker-articulators, thoserare, complete vessels, they’ve opened the cover of many books and they’re read– not skimmed – every page. Digested the words. Let them seep through their veins, becoming a part of their vessel. Turning blood to ink, regurgitating pages and using their own words to sing their own song. But even they, eventhose rare, complete vessels, have had fleeting moments. Those fleeting moments –the first few line of a masterpiece, then author evaporates before it’s finished. Can’t find him again. Gone. Those fleeting moments, I believe them to be pieces of another part of us that surface temporarily when triggered by a full moon in a dusty sky, or the touch of a lover, perhaps the crash of an ocean wave. A piece of another part of us is awakened, temporarily. Gone so quickly we can’t hold on. We must learn to hold on, to harness. To squeeze the nectar out of the fruits of life before they soil brown and useless. Hold on, harness. And when we hold on, when we let the juice drip down our fingers, we synchronize. Synchronize hand with mind with heart with body with soul. Complete vessels. That’s when we will fly and sing and hum and go; touch a million other souls and help them fly and sing and hum and go until they can sing their own song. And then they will fly and sing and hum and go on their own. Complete vessels.