Monthly Archives: December 2009

Thoughts on the road 121209

Thoughts on the Road 121209

Words claim my hand

Moving me to write

It’s almost manic how they demand to be written.

The muse fills me in these moments.

I don’t know what I write until it’s done.

Is the muse another aspect of me?

Or a separate entity that possesses me?

These thoughts come to me in weird times.

On a road driving, at work typing numbers.

When that happens it’s very unsettling and

Causes me to lose focus until it’s written down.

My hand cramps as the words are purged from my psyche.

In a way the pain is good because I feel something important

Is finished.

It’s hard to understand unless you are a writer like me.

The overwhelming desire to write prevails.

One hopes that someone will read your words and find out

Who you are.

Brave souls to wander this territory.

Some things are hard to read and absorb. They seem like

mad ramblings.

I think they are pieces of inspiration. Instead of looking at them

In your head, they are meant to be shared.

Everything you read doesn’t have to be black & white.

It can be many colors of the rainbow.

I think I need to journal everyday, even if it is only a sentence.

My true happiness is there. Everything else is everything else.

At one time, I thought I was crazy. This compulsion to write everything down. But I think it is necessary for me.


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Ramblings from the Road:)

Rambling from the Road 12/12/09

Randomness finds me

Chaos surrounds me

Dancing in the universe of stars

Looking down at everything below

Reminding me of the insignificance

We are drops in an endless sea.

As the sun shines upon my face,

Warmth through my body

A perfect moment in time

Wind blows through my hair

Primal powers fill me

Feet touch the earth

Reality becomes transparent

My name is cast into the elements

Earthwindwalker finds me

Becomes one with me.

Back to the world I know.

The dancing girl pauses for a moment

Utter clarity fills her consciousness

Meaning of life becomes known to her

Then forgotten, put away in her mind

To surface when wisdom and age comes to her.

Reflection of one’s face in the mirror

Reflection of life in everything

Reflection of spirit within.

Reflection of mind in the written word

Moves in a circle, around us and within us.

The road flows under the wheels

White lines blur as the miles pass

Thoughts fill my mind

Hands and feet move in autopilot

Meaning of life comes to you in this moment.

Dreams are pieces of a story you need to write.

Ideas that creates characters.

Inspirations of a spiritual nature.

You hold your “god” in that view of reality.

Maybe that’s what prophets really are?

They are dream writers.

But the real question is who the dream weavers are?

Blue skies

Perfect winter afternoon

Chill in the air

Breathe in.

Thoughts on reincarnation

Maybe we are all beings from a different plane.

That picks our body in this plane of existence.

That’s why we have memories of different lives.

Because we are actually these people at that time.

Just many spirits or stories in one body at a time

Only a few have the ability to remember those lives.

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