Saturday, October 04, 2014

the pearl machine


In the evening of today, defined by light in the socket, and diffusion in the clouds, in the gloom of a moving summer, I struck a bargain with pieces of my soul, for light, for cold wind, clouds and music, for leaving footprints without footprints, for being a benign ghost gliding along on wide open spaces 

And it was worth it, to feel freedom like wind, and watch the moon rise, with missing pieces, but you know, its a full circle, all the puzzle pieces are already glued together, its all about believing in the partial picture, with or without several thousand moonrises to count on

And the joys of being meaningless creep back in one sliver at a time, sharp and melting as they reach, but what a journey, firmly attached to the backdrop, detached from comment on a whole world of brick red in-progress-es, faces seeking reply faces, movements demanding maps, maps asking crayons

Someday when the forces are comfortably outside the magic moat, under construction of course, someday when its easier to touch a belief, and see a change color into kaleidoscope without visible human intervention, and mine is one of the souls on the road-that-never-was, I hope there is a permeating sunrise crammed with all that missing meaning, and I hope someone is out there, after striking a bargain with their soul, to see it, to believe it


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