2003Oct11 (Poem+)
Saturday

Much madness is divinest sense to a discerning eye – thematic, anorexic solitude is not blindness but distance as if an eagle has a more objective view from high above reality – what changes, what reality so different when I fall back to the earth! Personal truth is inherently subjective, our dreams like our fears are actualized beyond all control as if there was no choice but to be here. And what comfort we take in the illusion of choice! I am stuck with myself, captive on a boat whose sail clings to the wind for a sense of purpose while direction only seems more relevant than movement. What shore will be my destiny? A shady beach or rocky reef? The eagle, as it falls, must alter it’s course to snatch it’s prey. What fish stays motionless? What wind does not shift? Entonces

A sailor’s wings
Agile anchored talons
Catch the moment
Depart from the journey
Regal centered being
Alive and free