The universe doesn't recognize us,
you know..
There are no monuments built for ants.
The gravestones kept up
bear no better testament to time
than those whose battered, weathered topplings
have acheived.
There truly are no songs for the dead.
We almost can touch them, taste them,
Hear them..
And yet,
They are still so long gone as to be
intelligible to the living.
They are only a moment,
a piece of matter,
a chord played quickly and forgotten.
Which perhaps is why
So many choose to take that flying leap
and release themselves
to the greatest of unknowns..
Which is
the nothingness of life.
The vanishing point of no return.
Godspeed R. W.
Pt.1- It paints a Million Pictures
Everywhere is a picture
Every place a vibrant stream
Of every type of soul unraveled
Shining brightly in the pillowy heat
Every nook holds hidden flowers
Glowing heavy green vegetation
Spilling from the brick and terrace
Sending out a warm vibration
Here every corner plays a music
Makes you dance or sing or sway
Brass bands play for all who hear them
Steamboats key your cares away
Not Every moment might entice you
There are still ones who make you cringe
And yet they're saved by simple pleasure
Precious beauty belaying every fringe
Which gets you wrapped up taken
By viewing the lush and lovely pictures
Playing out vivacious color
Reminiscent of spiritual scriptures
Reminding you that God Is
in simply everything around you
That life should be lived with reverence
For all that does renew you.
Pt.2 - Meeting Aunt Jewel & Robert Vincent
This is what it's like with Family
You start to talkin'
Reminiscin'
See a person's history laid out before you
You hear Their story
Feel all the love that got put into them
You see Their roots
And from such tales
Learn how they grew
The aspect of their soul you were drawn to
Put into words that are not your own
A version different from the one you're used to
Which finally explains how
You could find them so uniquely wonderful
And soon
You are awash
With memories that are not your own
But shared they make you feel as if
With Family
That is
How very special to find yourself embraced
By his homecoming
That is
What it's like to be with family
It is part of what it's like
To be This in love
Pt. 3 - Big Easy
They call it Big Easy
And so it is
For there are washing machines waiting
Where you least expect but Want them
And "Hurricanes" flow freely
And life is the channel
Through which the water dances
The pulse of time is efervescent
So as never to let one imagine
That they are pent up by it
Or the fragility of space
Fluid day to night
Night to Day the warmth entangles
Even the coldest of hearts
And mine
Is not the one to question
If any of this is Real
Or if it only serves imagination
As affirmation of my every whim
I wish i could stay here forever
So as not to disrupt this balance
Bounding out of my insides
Into the crevices i capture
So impressive in their lies to me
That all is right in the world of men
