Monday, September 18, 2006

My Beach

My Beach

Lingers on the outside edge of ecstasy,

Meandering shoreline, hugging the bleeding edge of experience,

Whole, blue sky, expanses from the horizon, to overhead, down the other side,

Heralding a dome of Life. My own experiences.

My Beach

Bridges gaps, creating, fashioning broad pathways,

A place where dimensions coalesce, intertwine, and meet.

My Beach

Is a place where the gods of old dance,

Giving the Knowledge of old to the people of today,

Blending their spirits, coupling their hearts,

Teaching how to do the sacred Dances of the Cosmos,

The Dark and Light Moon Dancing,

The Creation and Fire Dance of the Sun,

The Roiling River Dance of the Waters,

The Underworld Dance of The Passing,

The Intertwining Spirit Dance of Love,

The EnJoining of the All.

My Beach

Encompasses All That...

And is a Great Place to Swim in the Summer, too!

To walk, hand in hand, and watch a sunset,

Or a sunrise,

Or cuddle with The One That You Love.

My Beach

Is Forever.

©2006 Stephen Andrew Brown. All Rights Reserved.

Wednesday, September 06, 2006

What Kind of a Life Is It That I'm Leading?

Hello faithful readers. I'm sorry I have not posted in a while. *Sigh* I'm a bit tired of late. I've been wandering around the countryside, traveling somewhat aimlessly in a fog of sorts.

I can't seem to see where I am going. I went back to where I've been before, but found no solace there. I should've stayed home, saved my money, and started a small business of some kind. Well, one can always start over, I guess.

What I'm struggling to say is that my inner person--you know, the one that Just Is?--has become fatigued and is running out of ideas. I'm wanting to do things, be successful, but I'm finding that I just can't seem to pull through.

I've tried everything I can think of to make forward progress. Still, that 'little, inner voice,' the one that gives out the ideas, is becoming tired, and feels worn out. Vacations do not help. Postive thinking is quickly dissipated by negative reaction, often to mundane things.

I'm hoping a recent thought to do a book series might help me realize my truest potential. If so, I must start at once. I am a horrid procrastinator, so I know the odds are not in my favor of starting it, let alone finishing it.

Does the Universe recycle and give to those who need, those things that those in need but didn't act upon them at one time owned?

I think my time grows short. Shall I Move? Shall I Dance Upon The Beach?

I think I shall.

Respectfully waiting for a Miracle To Happen,

HumFisheKu for September

Great wings bind me fast

Heralds trumpet my stillness

I move not forward