this is the stuff of magic, the infinite space between yesterday and
tomorrow, a rift into which anything and everything fits so perfectly,
so chaotically perfect, at times the puzzle melts seamless and in others
every other piece is missing, when we decide to get off our own laziness
to check between the cushions, but really we don't feel the need to get
up because we're tired from creating, from achieving, from escaping,
from compromising, from understanding, each feather both dusty and dewy
from the various clouds that rise and pass while soaring across that
infinite space of every moment.
does it make a difference, keeping it in, letting it out, trying force a
feeling that's both bliss and confusion? and will it ever end, those
midnight fingers that snap then point then gesticulate in some vague
direction, sometimes clear, sometimes not, towards a greater good, a
greener pasture split by two iron rails that keep the wheels from
spinning too out-of-control? the breath is the fuel and the body an
engine, a vessel cruising across an ocean that surges on and on and on
forever, whenever you turn around it's still there, whispering hints in
absolute, and absolutely not every one is meant for you.
how delicate the line between movement and stillness, how eggshell
intense the fantastic vibration beneath a calm surface.
truthfully, i'm loving it. what keeps me together is the ever-present
smile to be found at all points from peak to valley, start to finish and
back again. it seems that every step is a new chapter lately, at so many
points thinking 'oh yes, this is it, now it's really going to get good'
only to realize that the going has yet even to begin. unclear are the
reasona to move away from a need for constant redefinition, refocusing,
oscillating irises rising and setting in response to varying light, a
train rocketing and rifling through tunnels and closets, bedsheets,
timezones, and high-speed long distance lounge chairs.
greece was spring beautiful after austrian cold and the scatter of
turkish blue-gray, all flowers, olive trees along with the occasional
sunshowers atop castles and aside sweeping cloudy peaks. stockholm had a
spring chill offset by the warmth of new friends, windows open to air
out the dust of an old attic winter, the perfect chance to clear space
for stepping into grace of things to come. our last stop, oslo, our
glorious far-off point that was thought to never come, came and went as
smoothly as those far-off points always do, with excitement and depth,
and plans to return.
so many far-off points come and go, when one passes another rises, my
next one a tiny village in south germany, three times older than the
country of my origin. trading in two zeros, a city of ten million for a
town of ten thousand, give or take. give or take. give or take is a
great question to ask. what do i have to give? what is there to take?
where will my balance reside, yet another ever changing constant, where
will this midpoint between two extremes take root to spread it's wings?
i'm just a big fish perusing pond-front real estate around the world. i
got the stamps to prove it.
who? what? where? when? how? these are the true pillars of magic,
creating such infinite space between here and now. i can't help but
smile, so i will, as if there is nothing else to do, even if there is,
even though, thankfully, there really isn't, for this protagonist wears
not a cape but a broad grin instead, an ever-widening rift into which
everything and anything has an open invitation to fit, vibration
fantastic and fancy-free while rocketing and rifling through the
cushions in search of new inspiration for creation, to achieve a
successful direction for the escape from one extreme towards another, to
find that perfect midpoint for the time being, time being a commodity
that seems to be in extraordinary abundance for a change.