Robin Lipinski

Moss grows so tenacious, ubiquitous; splendid

Rocks are moved by such display

even direction

obeys

Green, resplendent,

never redundent

as it rains.

Misplaced items the moment the eyes opened

Reaching out and over the moment

bridging the flicker between life and death

Fueled by consumption, desire, wanting

Driven by reality

arriving with dust in the pockets and holes in the shoes

For all of it though, both eyes open and closed

For all the travels and experience

It is

good

to know the line.

Why would i bother to introduce that which is fantastic, boarding on impossible?

A good question i suppose and easy to answer in a simple way

It is not worth it as it is

impossible…

People are happy with their mundane and boring ways

Food

Sex

Work

Sleep

Birth

Death…

\

They take all the wonders natural around them as if it was complacent

normal

sane

average

…

as if they were entitled \\\\

without respect for the gifts given.

It is best then to let  them live and let be

to study, observe, take notes, formulate, speculate, and just be\

as to do otherwise is just a futile exercise in failure

knowing already

how ignorance can never embrace the wonderful or impossible

so sad

to see…

(and thankfully there is pizza, chips and dip, and stinky cheese… to fill the void as there is no one who can really believe…)

No one  knows

this is

good…

For below the lava caress’s the waters flowing

with a heated

kiss…

It is there, if only one digs deep

drilling in futility with ignorance

and by chance maybe

would get to see….

Earth knows

Rocks know

Tree’s know

and for some…

it is easy to feel

hear

and

be…

It moves, those clothes hanging on a line drying

swinging to and fro

hand in hand with the wind

much like life

city streets, country roads, countries complete

everywhere you look

there exists the life

of empty

clothes.

They seem to consume the time; eyes open

Seeing and believing and trying and learning…

Each and every waking moment

the eyes blink only for a moment as there is so much to consume

Try a day as if blinded, eyes bound and closed

leaving a mind  to paint the pictures

as the body creates a path

For some, it is hard

For others, impossible

For a few, necessary as they had become victims of lost sight

If you’re reading this then stop for a few minutes…

Close your eyes

Relax

Breathe slowly

now think…

is the feeling pleasurable?

or

does it bore you, hurt, or makes you laugh?

There is no correct answer

but if you did indeed try

then you are one of those special people

living the best of your life.

Little woodpecker of sort

rooting out the huddled critters

peck and peck and peck until

success!

Must admit with admiration…

fun to watch.

A picture inside, this showing a jumbled pile

Haphazardly scattered after being formed from a tree so long ago

Some warped and curved

Some cupped with sway

Some straight and true

A few darker in color showing the Sun’s age

Even a couple looking new and fresh, fresh as the day they were made

)))))-((((((

(insert random shadows of merging black, white; prisms colors in night and day)

(((((-))))))

When dry the soil they rest upon is firm, when wet they feel mud

for years

they lay

.

.

t\.

./then, when a decision is made they come together.

Measured and cut, drilled, bolted, nailed, trimmed, sanded, painted or stained

and then…

A bridge remains

or

a home

maybe even a chair or table…

<<<<>>>>

People use, abuse, respect, accept, or cast away

(all with personal attentions, will, and choice)

the work of a carpenter using what comes

from the Life of a Tree.

knowing or knew

k or okay

be or to be

mmm… interesting

1=1+1 or 1+1=3? two is not the answer or option and how can that be/././/\\//\\?

so much to know and with knowledge it can be real

or

a smoke screen…

smoke is wonderful as it dances with me

hand in hand, full of past, present and future

such as it is…

and always

will

be.

-Welcome back wind-driven dancers

Your white skin of crystalline; frozen rime; mature drops of water

it is

your time

Outside my window they dance for me and beckon

Alluring seduction as they chase and drive

circular, linear, bouncing…

together yet seperate

they herd my emotions

There is something special in the smell of air and their motions

Silent except the Winds speak

beckoning and calling and so

tonight we will dance on a floor of frost

ice cold heat

listen to the words, the music,

and always to live

the dream.