So apparent in the turn of seasons, I lived in south Florida for some time and the seasons definitely don’t have the same flair, much like skin things just get olden and golden (like worn leather) over time down there, palm trees with xmas lights are surely a strange site, I guess being born in the North US I just got used to the passing of seasons, seeing the great burst of spring, the roiling of summer with the lure of the shore, and the eventual fall into winter (barest of all).  So, I totally forgot I wrote this little poem, again, sometimes you just write something and like it, maybe not my best thing, but it is surely a piece of me laid out in my little notebook in my god awful handwriting…

“born again” 8.28.2018

is there a cleansing pool

in which I may drown and emerge

upon the other side

washed of you

 

is there a prancing fool

who believes such things

staring back in the mirror

he surely is

 

no chains, no binds, no bonds,

nothing to break, but might I wake

with a clear conscience of mind

one time –

to see a new day, with these weary eyes

 

as light bends on the back of morning land

reaching out with new warmth

to begin again –

rebirth.

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Music to contemplate life to ?  Yeah, I got that covered… some lovely ambient musings.. check out “sutra spin” also, one of my all time favorite ambient albums (it is more active ambient if ya get my groove)