Finally. in what. the truth. is past. at 2:35 in the morning. is simple. A battle. for perceptions. to be someones. Given up. only by the trees. In the lighting. was spoken. As. or like this. in groups of 1. Then 10. A couple of others. for to gain. a focus. So within 11 flashes. in the sky. was the interruption. of the real needed. Conversations. over much time. Beautiful conversation. with the wind, water and trees. The spaces. in-between. the notes. or lights flash. More simply stated. as the one flash. {being strait up} (Stand up) In what. it is implying. Long across the sky. All the way. One distinct line. Then the others. With a group. of scattered perceptions. attempting to become. one perception. Out of failure for that perception. Scribbled quite magnificently. across the same. line of fire. Ten. in one. very quick roll. of lighting strikes. Scattered. And scribbley. Yet. In the same general area of the big first strike. This strike. I believe. was the innocent math head. or idea or thought. The others where attempting to do. Only could not. For there lake of disability. with the listening for. I thought. the Ten may be hands. So the confused hands. Of thought. Rather then. another focus. of them. What guides the emotional hand or touch. Then a listen for. The truth is simply being understood. Who is speaking to who. Perceptions are. So in. the long. more quieter. moment. in the storm. We feel the trees battles for survival. With the playing of the wind and rain understood by them and accepted as play. We thank the tree for being strong enough to allow the wind and rain to play. The lightening to let us know. The shadows. and lights. that allow us. to be. here. With ALL. It is in there fights as well. We see our paths for later.
Posted on: Fri, 21 Jun 2013 20:11:38 +0000
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