Snoots

If only these arms stretched one thousand miles,
I could reach you.

If only these eyes could glance through time,
I could see you.

If only this world stopped every few days,
I could be with you as often.

If only these words could half-describe feelings,
anyone would understand.

If only my hands could touch your face now,
I would feel safe.

If only my tears could drop to your floor,
so would I.

If only a hug makes it all go away,
why do we not?

If only today, God said okay…

If only…

Lord, forgive me. I have questioned all that is real. I have pondered my own existence, that of yours, and others’. What wonderous miracles you are working in my life. Is it you, Lord? Or, as I have queried in the past, is it my own forceful energy and that of those around me?

I now know that it is okay for me to ask questions. I finally realized that if you are real, you already know my thoughts of doubt. I would be a fool of fools to think that keeping them to myself keeps them from you. If you’re not real, then what do I have to lose?

Oh God, something has come over me during the last year of my life and its culmination appears more and more beautiful. It makes me think that you are real. But, I believe karma is real. I believe that if one truly follows his own heart, he will be followed by his heart’s true desire. Whether YOU do that or we do it for ourselves, I do not know.

I ask of you, is it relevant for me to ask these questions of you? Is it strange that I would pray to someone or something, the likes of which I am unsure? God only knows, right?

Thank You for my many blessings and hidden surprises. I won’t let you down.

Tranquility In the Morning
Look how things yellow perfectly in the sun’s morning light.
My, how they glow uncontrollably!
Feelings of warmth penetrate me like water on a napkin.
Ahhhh, such magical bliss…
She is my sun.

Listen to the music I hear.
Isn’t it versatile and original?
It makes me want to sing and dance (save that I’m no dancer).
Ahhhh, such fascination - transportation…
She is my music.

Smell the fragrance of fresh dew-covered flowers in the cool morning.
Is there anything more tranquil?
My eyes water at the thought of it.
Ahhhh, so invigorating.
She is my bouquet.

Taste that delectable pie on my plate.
Never, has my palette been so pleased.
I want to share this with the world!
Mmmm, perfection, indeed.
She is my apple pie.

Feel this luxurious fabric on my skin - silk, velor, cashmere.
This feeling is pamperish.
I look forward to dressing in such fine threads.
Oh, what pleasures these are.
She is my wardrobe.

This evening, I decided to come back to Moe’s. This time, to take advantage of the good food but also the wireless internet where I can write and write in comfort on a real chair and a real table. Sounds silly and trivial, but to some, that’s luxury.

To my pleasant surprise, I heard great music as I entered the store. I didn’t know at first that this was live music. How neat! I learned that Kevin Brooks plays jazz at Moe’s every Thursday night from 6:30 - 8:30. Who’s Kevin Brooks? He’s a musician that clearly loves playing the keyboard. He’s soulful, energetic, humorous, and after talking to him on a break, I learned that he’s good people, too. Kevin’s the kind of person that does more than try. He’s there performing for the world to see and what a pleasure it is to have met him.

I’m thinking I’ll go back and write my words while he plays his music next Thursday.

The other night, I put a line up here that said, “Coming Soon… The Idea Wagon.”  The fact is, I’ve been working on some thoughts and as I work them out on paper, or online, more thoughts come to me.  Once I do more than try to write, one thing leads to another.  The words fly off my fingers and my mind comes up with more and more material - way more than the fingers can keep up with.

What is that?  There’s this phenomenon, an internal synergy of sorts… when you’re stuck, just start.  So what if what you’re doing sucks?  So what if you make mistakes, commit grammatical crimes, etc.?  Who cares?  Aren’t you doing more than the people that sit around watching television and talk about trying to write?

Off on a tangent, here we go…

What does it mean to try, anyway?  My brother told me about a demonstration that he observed when he was in the Marines.  Somebody asked him to try to move the pen that was placed in front of him.  When my brother touched the pen, he was yelled at.  “I said try to move the pen!  I didn’t tell you to move the pen!”  The point is, we can try all we want to do anything.  Do we want to try, or do we want to do it.

Do anything.  Please, do anything but don’t try.  Do.

Idea Wagon?  What Idea Wagon?

This has been another entry with no clear beginning or end, or sense for that matter