"If I caught the world in an hour glass and saddled up the moon..."
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If someone came to you and said that they were from a different time and place and that they'd come all that way to take you home...
Would you believe them?
What proof would you ask to test their veracity?
Would you ask them to saddle up the moon?
.
.
"...
Someone asked me about the future.
"Tell me the tale of what will be."
Will there be tales of war?
Will there be tales of famine?
Will this world survive or burst into the "flames" of decay?
You have to understand. The past I have seen with my own eyes isn't the drama of a movie writer's mind. It's the day to day of life.
Mother Nature has shown us all what she can do if she takes a notion. People hide from her neath the protective wings of God.
Me?
I think that I'll enjoy this moment that I see here.
The sunny day.
The ravaged aftermath of the combination of the polar opposites of heat and cold.
The day that the big storms rolled through. The first ones that came so close. I sat out in the yard in my chair looking at the sky until it got dark and the lightming came. The clouds moved. The air changed. If it hadn't been for the lightining I'd have stayed there while the rain fell. I could hear my father saying, "It's raining. Come inside." but there was something about the air and the rain.
I needed to feel what it was.
Om
In my minds eye I could see the rain fall. Beads of water running off of me like water runs off a polished car. It wouldn't have soaked into me making me feel tired. It would have run over me and around me inside of some protective force.
So I could see.
When the tornado or the huricane comes you have to choose.
Life or death.
You will survive or secomb to it.
Then the next day will be sunny because like life it is.
You pick up what you can keep and then move on or rebuild.
I am a writer.
I have that on good authority from an actual publisher. The kind that produce really good books. They said it but I already knew it.
I am a disinherited, sometimes broke, wanna be writer and poet.
For almost three years, I spent mornings happily writing in my blog (avg views/month 8,000). Life was good. Then the blog landlords "pulled the plug" and "vamoose" no more blog.
Now I write. I live my life with dogs in the middle of a forest (kind of) and I Blog
stupid...