Cross Hatch Skies.

Angels tracks.

Soft roar of evermore, a growling underscore.
Understated ascendancy; clear and painful dependency.
Precarious in standing, outstretched their handing.
Always watching, never subsiding, sometimes dancing, quiet abiding.
Eyes inclined, hearts and minds.  Delirious nights, imagined flights.
Angels wings and wispy things.  Clear blue skies and heartbeat sings.
Willows in a wish; wisp in a moon.  Be still and ready, I'll be their soon.

Found

Green dreams are the color of my pain, white the color of it's silence.  But it's only a shadow, there is no lost space in these colors, only dreams of floating sands.  Wishing for the torrent to reverse it's perverse flow.  To care so much, to feel the beat of the drums again, that is what I miss.  The obsession.
It is known, time is a wheel.  It is said, sleep when your dead.  Found.  What happens when your found?  What place is there in the After?  Ka is a wheel, it is known.  So what does Roland, last knight of gilead get after the tower is found?  Could he lay down his fathers guns and take up the hoe?  Sell leaf, nod and smile "yes, say thank ya'"  Would those hands, those killers hands, those slinger hands, ever be good for anything else?  How could he ever reach the top?
Ka is a wheel; both my nightmare and my comfort.  I am a seeker, but now I've found.  We all know what the next turn has for me.  Hunting the hunt.  I just need a new horizon to yearn for, a new god at my back.

No Turns

The Knight unfound is lost amid faces sunk into our ground.

Show me, hear me, I beg, I plea. May I stay, dare I flee?

Will I show you, will you see? You’re here, after all. Come to see my fall?

Guide my heart, little star. Show me now, is it far?

Where do roads go past this scar?

Roar of days ancient fire twist ‘round my finger, twisting mire.

Will I show you, will you see? The knight unfound, with sleeping bee.

No matter the path I take from here, all is peaceful fear.

“No turns, next 50 miles”, no burns, no smiles.

Knifes edge highway, follow your glowing skyway.

No lines to cross, just uncomplicated direction. No bumps or humps, a subtle detection.

Loops with no condition, quiet night’s introspection. Pain’s stealthy blight, black hearts affection.

Forward or onward, a decisions resurrection. Temptation, a courageous heart’s great imperfection.

Take these wanderings, mind disinfection. Born to fly, gravity’s harsh interjection.

If only to hold, this glowing recollection. Fear the fear, this long disconnection.

Above and below, both paths reflection. Do I see, or is this just my predilection?

I am unclear, even my own objection. Guide me along, proper deflection.

Driver, Oh Driver

I would like to get off this ride. Maybe I never want it to end. Where did I go? How do I just do things and just watch? Sometimes I feel like I'm just watching, like someone else is the real pilot. I'm just hanging on the back of the plane, watching the air move past. Feeling as it rushes over me, touching with spectral tendrils. I know this happens, it doesn't bother me, I don't even know who's talking right now. Is it the One? Or the Me? I guess it's how you define 'me'. I've lost my dictionary, I just knows what feels right. And when it doesn't. I hid so far away, all night. Who did I send out on point then? Someone has to drive this crazy train.

Truth is a bar of a Starsoul. When it is gift wrapped in a soft cloth and given as a offering, it will always be pure. We simply react to its blinding light through our little red glasses. We all wear dozens of them at a time, each a slightly different color. They dance in our eyes and we do not see them. Sometimes the brilliance is blinding, so we let our glass grow cloudy. Sometimes the aurora will dance in colors we cant see, even through the clearest glass. But rarely do we see all the spectrum of the radiance at once. Its always wise to never trust your lenses, and I have. But it will cost. Today it will, but this is just the steps along the way.

Roots

Trees seem to grow in such an unbalanced fashion sometimes, how do they even stand up? I saw a tree hanging at a crazy angle and I didn't want to walk under it. But when was the last time one of these things just fell over on a clam and drizzly day? It just doesn't happen, they are sturdy things. I always like looking at trees, but it was really weird to think of what it must look like underground. Crazy snarling roots, twisting around and around the dirt, hanging on for dear life.
When I lay out on the ground and watch the stars go by, its fun to try see myself from their perspective. A little tinny person on a little tinny planet, spinning around and around at about a thousand miles an hour. It makes me want to hang on to earth for dear life, like the trees. It would be nice to have roots to twist and curl in the dirt...
Sometimes I feel like I am just waiting for a day when the earth will just stop dead, and we all go shooting away like a few billion cannonballs shot at a hostile universe. That wouldn't be so bad. To just be whisked into space, catapulted out to be with the stars. To watch the little blue green earth fall away from under my feet. We wouldn't even feel it, the ground would just fade away under us. The rushing wind would be our only clue, but not for long... I only hope if that day comes I'm holding someone's hand. It gets lonely out in space.

The lost

Missing and vanished, it now stands alone.

To far away places they must have been blown.

Driven away on a nightmare's cyclone.

What ever the case its sure they have flown.

Of where are the rest, nothing is known.

But one remains high on its throne.

Uncounted masses have become the quite rare.

No two exists for which to compare.

Yet still it shines with a soothing white glare.

A beacon of hope high in the air.
Good for one wish, one earnest prayer.

Promised to me, this burden to bear.

So many choices for humanities advance.

Feeding the hungry, boundless finance.

Ending all warfare, a harmonious dance.

Or maybe a selfish horizon expanse.

An ailing body's lifespan enhance.

A sublime and enchanted romance.

For so many sins could I atone.

I know what I want yet still I postpone.

My hearts desire awaits if I dare.

But I can't, the sky I must share.

So I choose, lost in a trance.

And make my wish with a sad glance.

I wish for the to stars return to the sky.

I wish for their hope to be seen on up high.

I wish that they comfort you when you cry.

I wish that the dark night they always defy.

I wish for their peace when things go awry.

How could I, for you, these things deny?

The Hidden Ra

Its strange how different things are in this day and age. There are fundamental assumptions we make everyday about the world around us, and beyond, which were completely hidden from the ancients. In no great way do these effect our lives on their own. But in mass, as the giant of modern knowledge, I think they alter our perspectives. Everyone hides from the cold specter of great understanding.
The reality is overwhelming. It is too large, too huge, and way too shocking for out minds to encapsulate, analyze and label. So we just don’t see it most of the time. But now and again I try to really understand our place in the universe… I try and I fail. It basically can not be truly understood, but sometimes I feel like I get closer to the truth. Not much closer, maybe a step or two in a journey that would take a lifetime and beyond.
It’s a humbling step. I think about how small I feel compared to the world, and how small the world feels compared to the solar system, and how small the solar system is compared with endless space. I think of galaxies and try not to see them as a picture on a wall, or a pretty poster, but as what they truly are. I feel so incredibly small.
How much easier it is to think the way we used to. To think of stars as gods dancing across the heavens, looking down on us. To think of stars as a thousand frozen dreams, forever winking quiet warmth. To think of stars as a shell of lights just out of reach, marking the end of all creation. To think of stars as a road of souls, slowly making their way to the underworld and everlasting peace. We now know all these things to be far fetched at best, but they are so much more effortless to understand then the truth. And every fiction is so much more reassuring and comforting then the monumentally uncaring reality.
…How untrue are these thoughts really? Everything I know about stars fits just fine into a standard definition of God. Stars are so large and powerful that they are beyond our thoughts. In the unfathomable and hellish nightmare of that power, the heavy elements were created out of simple hydrogen and helium. There was once a star who worked for billions and billions of years to create us. Such time as has not passed sense the formation of the world. And then when it was done, and the building blocks were ready, it burst and sent its work unto creation. Sacrificing its self for its creation. All that was floated for billions of years more. Slowly fitting its self back together… And from the ashes of that sacrifice, the ground we stand on was created. And from that sacrifice was born a new sun. The son of the creator of all things.
And that sun works now, every day it churns and shines, granting us life. It is the fuel of nearly all living things. We rely on it for everything. And it is also creating too, the work of creation is never finished. One day, many, many years from now, the son will join the father in a monumental Armageddon, and another great sacrifice. And the world will be consumed and remade, its fragments mixed with the elements being forged this very second. And in time beyond time, the worlds will reformed.
It all reminds me of a big black book I read once...

Stars and Insecurities

When the night is at its darkest, stars blaze all the brighter. When I sit outside and watch stars take the sky, I can just see them consuming the blue. Taking the light into themselves, a swirling vortex of hope. A promise of light, a promise of life. In this way, the daylight is always with us. It’s a gentle reminder that all will be well. Do stars fight over the light? Do they struggle to take as much as they can hold, do they yearn to shine the brightest? I know that some are stronger then others, some shine more brilliantly. Some stars try and burst with light, begging to be seen. Some starts try and consume every drop of blue, and keep it for them selves. But now and then, I see one that is just quietly radiant. I know of a star that sits low on the horizon, that twinkles slowly and softly. And every night, the sun sets right behind it. Its filled with the golden rays of sunset, and quietly dominates the night. Sometimes, it’s the only star I can see.

When its soft golden rays fill the sky, and even the moon dims and bows, the cold seems to melts away. The night no longer feels so dark. Yet even as I am comforted, I worry about the morning. Will it steal away my star? When the suns harsh grip takes back what’s his, and he hides away the magic of the night, will it still be there? At dusk I watch for it, as the sun relinquishes majesty. Waiting for its return. When the last rays of the sun crest the horizon, I hold my breath and wait. The world stands still..

..My heart stops with it..

..And a moment stretches into an eternity..

And then all of a sudden its there, bursting with a warm glow. And everything snaps back to normal, and reality comes crashing in around me. The wind touches the leaves in the trees, and the waters ripples continue their slow plod. The world is a magical place again. And already, I think of the morning light.