Going too far from Home

The theory being that when you travel you never return home fully. You have left part of yourself on the horizon; looking back at the, but it really isn’t a road, it is more of a way taken, none of the firm lines of a highway, like ways of the Sun crossing the Sky.

The first jolt of thunder is the new drumbeat of Spring, and we hope to hear it measured in Summer.
This is a good day grey with the promise of rain.
Good Rain, come lave the trees,
wash their limbs and waken [them]
This place is sudddenly filled with a tilted curtain of snow as the breeze dances by in her borrowed veils.
An hour after dark it is cold again, but there is no frost.
An hour after daylight it is warm..
The trees have begun to speak to each other. The few bees are slow, but grateful. The Spring Sun would be a good heiroglyph for hope. The robin is loud and numerous, yanking worms from the earth, amdist their broken running of starts and stops. The flat sweet dandelions small and scattered. The bird bath the only gnomon on the lawn; its shadow delicious on the turf, one hour of innocence pointing at the lilacs tight with buds.
Your words sir, are too rich for the tongue, confuse the mind and lower the lids.

Another Monday

"Pathless through the familiar ways of my life. Words, everything is words. The poet is mad, but does that make him unhappy?", the Librarian, Liz.

'Reality: The nucleus of a vacuum.", that's Ambrose Bierce, a very bright but perhaps overwrought author.

"I find that happiness is usually a state of chocolate." Happy

Old Worries

"Put it from your mind. You must let that which is passed go. Give up the pluperfect world... Look at the future subjective.. It is pluripotent. []

On the other hand. The past can be very informative, a lesson to all. But it is like school, there are lot of people that are just not interested. A poll, an instrument of indication, of adults, in any year yields the same results: I don't use anything I learned inhigh school in my job... So what was learned there that you use today? There must be something?", Liz.

"Sex.", Happy.

"I hadn't thought of that."

"That's because you didn't."

"I was a good girl."

"So was I."

[is free to develop in any manner]

The Soliton of Love

"The long wave that moves through any medium unchanging. First named by a Scot and known also as the 'wave of translation.' He noticed it in a canal when the barge stopped the wave left the prow and continued on at its height, shape and speed far down the canal; he rode a horse after it, a couple of miles, where it disappeared in the windings of the canal. [John Scott Russel 19th C, engineer]

It is also a phenomenon in optics. A wave of light shaped by phase can travel through the transperancies, without losing its form or properties. The flash of Love traveling through a sea of glass. How do the two pulses find each other and interact, they must at least change their direction to travel together. Since love is a soliton it is not surprising that so few travel together well.

Or is it our spirit that is a soliton? And all paths are shaped by gravity and governed by Time. This would explain the curving together of so many lives. The desperate generation twisitning out of sight. Attending the 'House between the Worlds'." The Cosmole sipped his tea.

"He is just a faded romantic, a blunted poet, the sand left behind by the Wind. A desiccate, all the promise of the Horizon's water, the split water of the desert, boiling away at your approach... Who's the faded poet?" , thoughts alone.

Leap Year Promises

I thought about heartbeats and a number of the descriptions I had for them, the blacksmith's steady hammer toiling with the reluctant iron. I longed for the pure scent of linen being worked with steam and heat. I looked across the room and within my view the face and physique that were like a lever prying on a bracket that held my heart in place, but it also felt like it was singing from a morning branch, I looked away without getting caught. Spring was coming but my heart went unanswered. The days were getting longer but the nights were not getting any shorter...

We had gathered again at the Cosmologist's house. I had started calling it the 'Announcement House', like one of those houses between the worlds sort of thing. [you know the metaphysical bridge, A large house with a porch and the windows lit up, but all around is only dark] But back to the lecture. We were all seated comfortably and everyone had tea. Some had chai, some had green but Cosmole liked his tea with milk and lemon.

"I think of it as a metaphor, we are adding time to our clocks and calenders, the Time gardener grafting on a day here and there and sowing leap seconds. Oh yes there are leaps seconds thrown in every year..."

"Remember the timekeepers are not measuring historic Time, they are measuring basically only one interval, the second... Because we live in a techno world and all of our gadgets use frequency. At the level of interaction we have, with everything that uses discreet portions of the electro magnetic spectrum; all the cell phones for instance, but that is still only a small part of the overall. This means that the use of frequencies has to be very finely tuned, to prevent overlap, what you call static."

I thought about heartbeats, a very low frequency indeed...
"Oh, no more for me thanks."