Fire Juggling

Risking everything that I am
to become myself

Juggling balls of fire
where the fire is my own spirit


Transformation is never easy
Watching who you are crumble
While growing into the wonder of something new

Art

One role of art is to take what is plain and make it obvious

In that, for the artist this is the struggle to clarify the soul
since our soul is always there yet never obvious.



The book continues along as I search thru what it is for me to express life. Having played some WOW with my children and friends. I have been thinking about how we try to escape into fantasy. I am wondering what effect that has on our bodies. If a person escapes into TV, games or any similiar secret world outside of ourselves... how does that reflect back to the body. Since all our actions reflect our state, I can't help thinking it would have some serious effects in the body falling apart a little quicker. And then I think about biking and the feeling of my spirit flying along with my mind and body together. No matter how good the fantasy game gets, it can never match that combined experience of truly living.

Having said that I still like to play... all in balance i suppose.

leavings

Leaves letting loose to be free 
to swirl and dance upon the wind
Once upon a summer 
They tried so hard to reach in growth to crack the sky
Imagine the joy upon colorful bursting to release
Spiraling finally to be free
               with this last dance to the ground

Every year at this time, I always write one autumn poem. It's the most consistent part of my writing. always unbidden, always upon the spark in the change of season, whether, its a scent, or the sound of wind pushing leaves down, something which always seems to happen.

I guess its autumn again, this fell out of my random oration this morning. Every morning, i just try to randomly speak something. Its an exercise to help free my mind and to help teach me how to flow with my words better. Today autumn flows from my mind.

Fate and Poetry

What would you do
In a meeting mixed with death, an ever nameless man and yourself?

Would you jump away?

Would you reach out?

Would you pray?

Would you ignore?


Would you discover poetry?

I am a poet, discovering poetry to be:
The end of one journey, and...
The start of the next

I am a man
Once giving passing rites to another man

Now writing words meant to help those living
So others can discover

We never die alone