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Temple of Thought

Temple of Thought

Chills have come racing down my spine as I sit here and with shaking hands I know that everything is about understanding, and feeling the chills raging like a storm in my mind spreading like a fever through my heart down to my legs. Time to let go of fears and wondering who will stand with me if and when I breakdown? I know all I think and say seems to be understated with dreams or is something I have read, with dreams not reflecting what reality has to offer. I know a single word can change all things and can cause an explosion like one match or spark to set the fuse. I may be losing friends, but then again they never were anything but friends in name only unlike that: Mangy Motley Crew or Those I’d Stop a Bullet for who are like a bunch of good old bricks which have withstood all the kicks.

I really don’t care what they might have to say, and maybe those things I never said may have acted and felt like wrecking balls in my brain, and fell from my mouth to lie dead in the dust at my feet. Recalling what it was like to rise and wearing medals again and refusing to believe that the meaning of life is lost on the wind. As I head on down the line in the first hour of the dawn in the turning of twilight and thinking of some of those I was forced to leave behind and some of the connections I had to cut without any thought. I ain’t believing that there were or are many who grieved when I left and headed out and wondering if they ever could understand or if they were instead lost in the depths of distraction?

It may serve me right to suffer and to be alone out here, but I am goin’ on living till my heart will finally let me give in. No matter what I think or find I’s usually not enough, and still I manage to take those down who step across the line, just when they think things are going all-right. But then again they don’t know what it’s like to stand in the rain near those rivers of blindness and feel reborn as if being baptized as the rain washes away the pain, troubles, and shame. It’s all just a matter of time or a question of when, or even who will do the time for committing the crime or be judged for those crimes and misdemeanors that have never been defined. When the time finally comes those of us with some educated thought and common sense will finally be able to shine and rise up over those lead willingly like sheep or cattle to the slaughter.

So tell me what I might be able to find, as I continue heading on down the line and looking for a sign and listening for the word to be able to find that singular touch of grace and to feel the thrill from a divine rush as well as feel Heaven shine it’s light down. There is nothing up my sleeves and no sleight of hand but just those scars I carry from a life that used to trouble me and are the souvenirs from the past that the sun’s dark light couldn’t or wouldn’t heal. To most, it seems I am wandering with no real direction to go except that the Tao directs all moments and directions to become a flowing river and it is as old as God.

Sometimes I feel like a hero who can’t fly, and have taken the time to look into the abyss and looked into that mirror on the shelf to make friends with the enemy. Keeping my faith and hope with me and knowing I can make it on a wish and a prayer if I need or want to. After having found so much on my own I don’t need them telling me how it feels and where to go, but then again they never took it to the edge and can never say why. For they never have gotten out and put their fear of death aside, and have never truly lived or in most cases have never lived twice as I have. Or bothered to break down the walls in their mind and be blinded by the dark light of a new sun as they stepped out of the machinery, or stop being a part of the scenery.

Still, illusion spins and casts its net when I am never where I want to be, and Liberty softly laughs and pirouettes when I think I am free. Still, there are times when I wonder what I stand for and maybe I don’t know, but that’s alright, and just like their words of praise I don’t give a damn, and I just keep on keeping on down the line. Still, I try to cash in my bad luck and keep on trying to win with a losing hand as the Devil laughs at the hand he has dealt me. And there are nights when I see your ghost and hear your words on the wind that keep my bones from wanderin’ out in the darkest night. I still look for your face in all those places I have passed through out here on this old Highway 61, and wonder where you ended up after all took place.

Copyright: Timberwolf International LTD. January 2017 – 03


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