Wonderment.  Such words to create sense, flow
into the torrential now.  Ephemeral permanence
spastic in the face of the current, like filter paper
trying to hold the shape of white rapid sprays,
like chaos trying to maintain its shape.

We.  Marks upon one another, flow into one
another, as multicolored sands slide over
the sandstone sculpture mountains of New
Mexico, but not, rather this here is newer still,
a New World constantly coming into being.

Distinction.  Signatures carved from faces hewn
from solid, from song, from art, from organic.
To boldly go where none have gone before,  but
left unsaid is we go to confirm our difference.
To declare that here there be us.

Need to put into words, these thoughts flying through my mind.  Yet I am not sure as to what needs to be said.  I have mellowed, been contentified.  To sit and watch.  To rest and enjoy placid observation.  To rejoice in withdrawing from a constant battle, struggle to carve a place for myself in this world.  To be content.

The anger, the pain, the desperate fears being held at bay.  Constantly threatening to overwhelm, to collapse as a tidal wave would upon a beach of swimmers chained to the shoreline.  The fear of the aching knowledge that one is alone, truly truly.  It’s all ebbing away, beginning to ease.  I feel as if I don’t have to fight anymore.  I feel like I could believe that I am not alone after all.  That I could be content.

And I am left not knowing what to say.  I can see now why there are so many who do not write, who do not draw, make music, art, and through it all feel that overwhelming drive to create.  That life itself would not be real without creating or acts of creation.  I can see now why just living could be sufficient to occupy the attentions of a singular being.  I can see how one may never feel the need or find the gap to organize the contents of one’s mind.  I can see how I could become one of those people.  And at the same time not.  Because there will always be that part of me which prods the rest saying that this is only one part of it all.  So in part to assuage that part of my mind which prods me so, I shall again make an effort to allocate more time to creative ventures, and in part so that if the day shall come when I need to pour something out throw a creative avenue so that I retain my skills to an acceptable level of frustration.  Though I do want to explore filmmaking more, I have been discovering of late how much fine it can be.


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