As he stood by

The beautiful flower she grew

Soft child of the grass golden was her hue

Shade from the sun and warmth when cold

By a gnarled mangy tree, the years make him old.

The beautiful white doe dances by

Without fear of the sly looks or the arrows that fly

She dances without cost and sings as she sighs

She curls down at dusk in a warm grassy knoll

By a gnarled mangy tree, his friends make him whole.

Careless children, tramped on by without glance or stare

Saw only a petal upon green leaf

Tore they down that blessed gown and raped as they went by

Soft water’s child and friend of all

Light as a whisper heavy was her fall

The gnarled mangy tree, he wept without end.

Whispers in the dark  and cold metal snaps in place

They watch with rapt attention as the fair doe moves about in grace.

A life that was meant for peace and play

With a flash and a bang, a bloodied body on the grassy knoll she lay.

The gnarled mangy tree, he had had enough.

Invoked he the wrath of the wind and fire of the sun,

Tore he his hair and snapped out a bark and let out a run.

Each limb fora hundred bullets and wizened old bark for what was left in that gun.

With a voice from the first sun and moon, he let out a roar and an ending groan

With a hideous cry he fell…the gnarled mangy tree, now is no more.

-mithrandir

Looking and Seeing.

A nomad sees a tree,

The shade is enticing.

A man sees a house,

The home is inviting.

The rich man sees the sky,

The heights are alluring.

The poor man sees the corner,

The two walls are life saving.

The dying man sees his life passing,

The sequence is revealing.

The dead man sees nothing,

The seed now is growing.

~mithrandir

" Two men look out through the same bars:

One sees the mud, and one the stars."

~Frederick Langbridge

Onwards

I woke up one morning,

And found myself in a deep sleep.

I reached with my toes,

Searching for some semblance of reality.

I reached the edge of the bed,

And was sucked into a deep chasm.

I fell endlessly, my scream rang silently,

I landed into a fleshy carcass,

My eyes opened and it was a new day.

I stepped out of the house, 

And felt it disintegrate into ashes.

Detached with only the shirt on my back,

And worn out shoes, I stepped forth to find the world.

I traveled the narrow alley ways and the deep blue oceans,

I immersed myself in the throngs of the peoples of the vast world,

And damned myself to the solitude of my own being.

In the chaos of it all, I felt the silent whisper of inevitability,

It spoke empty promises of finding the self and of oneness.

I hung my head down and plodded on.

The darkness of the night and the nothingness of it all,

The bleak stars my solace and the deep shade my shelter,
I plodded on.

"What's wrong with death sir? What are we so mortally afraid of? Why can't we treat death with a certain amount of humanity and dignity, and decency, and God forbid, maybe even humor. Death is not the enemy gentlemen. If we're going to fight a disease, let's fight one of the most terrible diseases of all,
Indifference."

August 11, 2014-Williams

Surreal short stories during odd moments

Sleep came swiftly in the auto after 3 days of insomnia, at that hour it came to the driver as well.

Neither felt the sickening crush of the crash.

The blanket is being pulled away.
You try and shoo away the cat with your foot.
 To realise that she's sleeping by your head.

And that you are alone.

So you stop.The pulling stops as well.

You stare blankly at your feet.

Nothing.

Deciding to go back to sleep, you hear

“Turn the fan down or give the blanket.”

The cat is sitting by your feet.

-Mithrandir

We climbed a hill that day...

We climbed a hill one day,
Not knowing what was on the other side.
Not caring what was on the other side,
We climbed a hill that day.

On the trail we slipped,
Sometimes we even fell.
The air was chilly and the rain had her own will,

We climbed a hill that day.

On the top we reached, each in his own time,
On the top we reached, each in his own way.
All were students on the hill that day...
We climbed a hill that day.

On the top we were told to face another reality,
On that hill we reached a fence.
On that hill we were reminded how privileged we were,
On that hill I remembered our seeds were planted by a man.
And that man came from a reality...
A reality on the other side of the fence.
We climbed a hill that day...

 On my way down I was without breath,
The journey tested my grit and I passed.
But a sense of awe was within me,
I touched upon the memory of someone that was far beyond my reach.
We climbed a hill that day...
And met a memory on the way.

-mithrandir

And his soul was filled with joy, and for a moment he had to pause to recover his breath. “The past," he thought “is linked to the present by an unbroken chain of events all flowing from one to the other." And it seemed to him that he had just seen both ends of the chain, and when he touched one end the other trembled.

The Student, Anton Chekhov

I want to grow up to be a kid.

If you don't have a struggle uphill the journey down the slope won't be as fun.
Knowing that you can make the journey up gives the courage to stick your hand in the dirt. again.

The trick with age might be to feel like a kid every second you-

-Feel like your knees are giving out

-You ain't good enough for the world

-You can't see well enough

-You regret more than you reminisce

The trick with age might be to feel like a kid every second.
-Mithrandir

Roverandom

Upon his wings I am often carried away,

To a childhood of running and laughing,

Lost in those unfathomable eyes,

Like immersing myself in an ocean of memories...

Each lattice...a frame for a thousand smiling days.

-Mithrandir