Sometimes the writing mind comes in rushes…. all at once like standing under a water fall……and at other times it comes to me like singular falling leaves in autumn…. chinking…. tinking…. tiny little piano notes drifting one at a time towards the ground…… 

My darling grandma used to sing me a song

“The leaves had a party one autumn day

and invited the north wind cold

they put on their dresses of red and brown

and their hems were lined with gold

At first they danced to a merry tune

and the north wind whirl’d them round

He tossed them gently to and fro….

Till they fell

upon

the ground”

 

any way, it’s something like that…..

And now…..

No chinking… just blooming

slow emergence

summer

in the maws of june

soppy

slow

moistened

things growing

colors layered

assured ease

that morning

will roll

into an afternoon

and an afternoon

rolls into starry canopys

godly translucent fluid blues

that wash the sky as dusk drapes over…..

And……  last night i dreamt i could levitate… could fly….. I remember the feeling so well.  I can so vividly conjure the concentration required… the feeling that ‘starts at the bottom and comes from above’.  I woke up a little…. then returned to the rooms where i moved in and out…. literally floating…. and just as i had drifted, my dream mind thought….. “there…..see? you did it….. you came back”……. and that realization was almost as cool as the floating itself…….

guess i’m full of it today….. speaking in the first person………..

 

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