That's it....

Here, here we are now.
We arrived without so much as a jolt or nudge to our dreamlike state.
We arrived safely without the brusing of skin, or the bone beaneath.
Were we packed cautiously in preparation for this delivery?
It was a long journey indeed.
And it is damn near a man made miracle
that we were not distroyed by the hands of man along the way,
especially those of our own.

And we sank our morphine motions
in between then and now,
like the fisherman sinks the hook.
The bait.
The tackle.
The anticipation of what is to be.
Or not at all.
Atleast not on this cast of the reel.
But there is always the next,
there is always fresher water,
and stronger wire.
But not for the faint of heart.
Good fortune only casts itself
upon those who are willing to accept
it as such.
It is all in your perception, afterall.

In the tragedies are most certainly
the beacons of truth and clarity
you've previously been so overzealously
making futile attemps to set afire,
but without the ammunition to do so.
Only in the flood waters, once engulfing you,
in the midst of debris and waste,
comes your holy water, washing you clean once again.

What you previously knew to be clean and good,
is now just flowing away down a drain,
deep beneath the earth we have yet to ever truly see,
flowing down below, to never be touched or savored again.
That was then. That was then.

It has left you now.

No longer in form, color, or smell, a scream or a tear.
No longer in the hands that demand answers,
but in the memory
that allows the necessity to take it's course.

THEN, is what leaves us in order to propel our limp bodies into waking life.
THEN- will abruptly leave you
like a lover who was not created to make love.
Like the lover who reminds you
of what love most essentially IS.
THEN will teach you the truth of Now.
Just like this. We are here now.

And it will teach you
that you and I and the water flowing, is all momentary.
And to marvel in those few moments
before they pass
is to love,
is to know one's feet upon the earth,
one's heart to it's synchopation,
and one's ear to it's orchestra.

It is all in your perception, afterall.
and what a grandiose elaboration this can be.

When faith has woven your canvas
truth becomes your savior.

color blind
and color bound.