I want to run up that ruby lined ridge line on the back of that mountain of a cloud, right up to the moon, I wish to go there but know I never will, but how soon my romantic side forgets, the moon, sitting there framed in blue, is not quite in our sky, my logical side steps in to remind that the moon is in perfect orbit, locked in the cold black breathless death of space, a dead world, echoes of impacts heard in countless lifeless craters, traces of history of billions of years as if transpired just yesterday, as magical, as mystical as the moon may seem, the man, the moon, the dream, it is the dead end of all being, and what will be, for when life retreats or is drawn to another place, a lifeless husk will remain, dust, gravity no longer caring, losing it’s grip, so weak it becomes just a globe in another’s collection, so which do I choose? of my dual nature I lean to the romanticism of the world, the concept of the eternal, but there is that constant reminder in the sky, whether a sliver, a quarter or full glory, the fact that everything dies is not much consolation for the living, more like a rationalization that we all drive down that dead end road, logic is cold, hard to argue with a stone as words do not carve granite well, or at all, but I suppose what choice do I have but to drive on, forward, with hope, for the alternative, while more rational, more reasoned, more probable, leaves nothing on the bone and in fact no bones… at all.

music?  I can not resist, I am a child of the late 80’s after all… so…

>>>>> Duran Duran – New Moon on Monday

oh yeah, this post is part of The Porch Project which has no rules aside from me sitting out on the porch, days of the week? month? nah… just when I can, and thanks for stopping by, this little bus stop of my mind, I appreciate the time and eyes…. thanks.