This time it was easy

let the flow come through in easy motion

sometimes words fail me

this time they danced off my fingers like they were slipping into a warm bath

I love these times

finding powers in the distillation of time and energy meaning and purpose

its okay if no one reads them but me these words delight me in hindsight

Floating downstream through glimpses of my mind I had simply let go of

who wrote that?
me?
when?

huh?

sometimes it’s the prompt most of the time it’s the moment

stepping behind the curtain just offstage to write one

jumping back to finish the set

was that when I wrote that one?

ah so so much fun!

blessed are the times when the world shrinks even smaller than it  seemed to let us meet somewhere between reality and dreams

sharing thoughts and spirit with the ghosts of freedom and form

see you again next year…

the pages more weathered and the “souls” of my boots more worn

Bless the flow