​​What an interesting Paradox...
The game of life is a push and shove
The finest gift of drunken purity,
The finest shift of sober reality
Always moving this way and that,
Always staying on the same circle
The spiral of relationship, the spiral...
Fabulous communication fraught with
Distress and intense connection.
What curse?

What gift...
What creation of, of, of...
Low battery.
You can do better.
You can create, you can.
Here I am.
What gift, what g.i.f.t.
Here and now.
I don't know a thing
Except what I create next.
What I create.
It is all a new scene, a new start, a new this and that and the other and forward motion.
Back to the beginning and around again.
What do I know.
What an interesting paradox.
Here I start, at the end.
Cold.
Tears and years and not any more understanding of the process than when I began.
Fuck it.
Here it is.

How do you know a thing that is changing, moving, flowing, arriving and departing all at once?
In the flux of impermanent creation floating realms of construction and destruction coexist
The twins of duality cannot abide without each other
Death over and over gives way to life
Second by second spiralling into a new moment, only to be lost forever in the next
Spilling out in waves sucked back into oceans of unending possibilities
Who is this flesh covered soul, colored in hues of passion and grief, anger and joy?
What is it to know in the expanse of the infinite?
"Who" is different every passing second
Every breath is to make a decision about creation, all the while building on a moveable foundation
How to bend flame, to see wind, to walk on water, to train a cat...
To know oneself is to greet the master of surrender; yielding and unyielding forces collide 
Watching becomes action as awareness takes shape and form, only to start again 
Circling an ever wider universe the canvas meets with a vast array of explosions, no two alike
Days and age and seconds and years,
time is not even a constant, only a fleeting tool of imperfect frequency 
A self portrait exists only in the yesterday
Soul aperture peaking through with a glimmer of something much bigger than knowing can presume