Before creation began
the raw potential sat in silent contemplation,
with a blank slate & imagination as a pen.
Feeling the winds of change
it breathed in a deep grin
& exhaled a hail of emotional rain.
For life to begin waters of turmoil were essential then.
You see at the beginning there was the word
mightier than the sword or any organizational board.
The magic of its manipulation
drew latent possibilities into manifestation
using a simple mechanism:
gifting the self to others sparking creation
& abuse for personal gain leading to destruction.
Here now, watch the waters of misery rise
dark and ominous are these tides
& yet they carry a pristine beauty rooted in the unknown surprise.
For the beginning to begin again
one must be willing to loose all gain.
An ecstatic moan escapes his lips
for he has found her touch to be a source of healing bliss.
Pic: Bay Area 8/18/2019 |Sailing the winds of change. 28 knots and a few hops!