Brought. . .into the downer’s grove by the sun’s first light, into that sad wonderful place of in-between.
Between time, thought and wonder. Between each heartbeat, between each rhyme.
Each rhyme, each rhythm, every crescendo building towards somewhere, or is it everywhere?
Where to begin? From what place do I stop and look back, or forward where the light is dim.
Dim is the path, the way. . . though even dusk, for me, is a shinning beacon beckoning me to move beyond my shrinking shadows of dread and dismay.
This may very well be the end of me, or else some strange beginning born in another time.
It's been a while, but I have returned from a little break. Home was nice, except for the earthquakes, fires and the tornado (rare in southern California, but they do occasionally happen). Been trying to write a little recently, though this one is really a work in progress I thought I should post something.
Posted by: kasey | Aug 02, 2005 at 07:08 PM