a window into a life, a conversation with a soul, a gateway to a heart
Author: David Koblentz
Inspiration is a fickle muse. Sometimes empty, sometimes overwhelming. These words I write are my own but they seem driven by something else (perhaps?).
l’arbor for I might like to know the language of the trees to speak out among them upon the windly breeze; but perhaps, that is only a curtain call and the elemental communication resides in roots- right beneath us all.
notes… there is a quiet thing about trees, you could swear you hear whispers sometimes, sure, that is probably my imagination but… maybe not… this one just popped in my head, I swear it is the strangest thing, I do panic at times like “man, I haven’t posted in like “x” days”… I truly try to not think about it and let it all happen naturally, but I am human, I let it go as much as I can but this is an honest space, so I don’t mind telling you I am not 100% on my mission to be pure, meaning I just want to post and forget about likes and all that, I have been doing this long enough where it should kick me in the brain to let it all go, but those chains… it takes shedding and getting used to, but I am working to just post my work with no refrain… in my head the rationale is there, I should not care at all, not caring in terms of just laying myself bare… I know in my head that in 100 years none of this will matter, it is just getting my grey matter to accept that hard cold fact and just be … a tree. like “here I am”, period… that’s my goal, that is why I post unedited material, just the source, me the spiggot, just trying to get that damn virtual Brita filter over my maw…
P…erhaps a paradigm shift in my thinking is needed, for my future mental health, it seems obvious of course, but aren’t some of the simplest things the hardest to implement to get them un-entangled from the pernicious layers we create as buffers or boundaries, I had two days off this weekend, which, may seem crazy to some, is a rarity for me, and has been for 20+ years now, both days this weekend were nearly flawless, I can’t say I indulged them fully, I love to lounge in lucid dreams, truly, and once you have learned to drive such things the temptation to relax and watch a movie in your mind of your own making is… divine, but I did manage to drag my ass out of bed with enough time to at least enjoy the days, but my favorite time? sitting on my deck, buttressed all about by my bamboo children, all of them sprouting now like mad from a sort of late spring boost (not much rain), there is always that tipping point of panic when I don’t see them growing like mad but they always pull through, so far so good, just sitting on my deck taking the world in, a deer and a tiny babe waltzed on through, paying me no mind, I’m sure they were aware, listening to the breeze play through the towers of trees, I do not have some huge backyard, just enough I suppose where I only see the outcrops of urban-ity creeping in on the edges if I so choose to look, instead I like to focus on the shadows thrown by a single candle thread, dancing in the breeze, even the urban sounds make for a good backdrop, the hum of my A/C unit in my right ear, the hum of my neighbors pool apparatus in my left, the occasional, or pretty usual plane slight-screaming over head, that time of night where it is past sunset, but barely, and there is still enough light to see whatever clouds are still hanging around, no exotic colors, just a nice deep indigo with white whisps around, this is my charging station. So this morning, after the usual drive in, with the usual jack-assery of many drivers which might illicit rage some days, today just a laugh at the ridiculousness of said jack-assery, I realized a few things… take more days off, a simple enough one. perhaps take my 2 day weekends in the winter months as to maximize the daylight, and conversely try to perhaps schedule earlier days in the more daylight months to take advantage of the longer days and longer sunsets, I think at the pace I am going I am more like burning my batteries out over the winter in both physical and an emotional sense, and then over-charging or over compensating in the warmer months… sure there is also vitamins involved and such (like vitamin D etc.) but this is not that blog, I am talking generally for me, of northern stock here in the USA, I wonder if the constant and yearly fluctuation is the erosion that ages this rock? So maybe I should be more conscious of such simple things, not taking time off for times off sake, or maybe so, but also to align more with the patterns of the seasons to benefit the most of the resources available from mother Earth. Of course I could just win the Powerball and move to an island… I could do that too… but just in case that does not happen, perhaps I need to schedule my schedule into 4 seasons…
I’m not sure the make or model of this little feathered fellow pacing cross’d on by my window curiously-looking maybe wondering the same of me but mirrored
sometimes you swear the little birds you observe get you..
if there is truth involved- then the writings in an arcane tome will still have relevance today a taste- on our modern tongue, as far removed from original sin as to then commit our own (to begin).
just because we can chat across the globe does not mean that we have advanced as much as we may think.
“Let us not be overthrown at the final test… In sorrow we must go, but not in despair” *
and so passed the great king- in the wake left broken, Arwen who alone could not bear the grief who gave all the gift of her kin and kind to escape out the days into the undying lands beyond the seeming reach of death; for a time; but trade all, for this brief time of immaculate love- above all; now, with nothing left in this path she departed out to her once splendid land forlorn by time, deprived of the elven light, the evenstar – gone, for some ages now- for lothlorien had fallen into decay and her, the last vestige of the place- she lay down to die, as common folk do just as Aragorn passed by choice, so she did too in this far land, now of mortal men- capable of the darkest plights the darkest dooms and yet the also- the grandest heights, in the true light of love and now, sacrifice, for the two have chosen, long ago her eyes close, knowing this day would come, one last thought “goodbye my love, my last and only kiss- is yours”
*the last words of Aragon (before he chose to die), from JRR Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings. Sometimes I am inspired by such great works to write something, this particular scene actually does show up in the movie as Elrond reveals his daughter’s fate to her in a vision, one thing though, perhaps overlooked by some, Elves are not actually immortal, they are tied to the land, they can live an instant or millennia, the undying lands will sustain them for all time as the land exists, but at such a time that the earth ceases, so they too will perish as all things must.
some wonder is lost in this world, I can only imagine what the ancients might think of such a day, and what angered their gods, for what else might have strangled the sky in a blanket of orange, with the clear smoke of fire by scent but no fire within any sight, or would this be known to them as what wildfires do, what they produce allowed to blossom in their season of natural norms, but I quite imagine the sky at night, on nights like these, where there is no light, obscured by phenomenon all explained by our all knowing weatherman, our digital shamans of this age, yet still wrong on so many occasions but the same comfort provided, those in the know to engage the masses who go about their daily life, how far are we evolved from the primitive I wonder, because of our paved roads, bound lines crisscross to provide light, one fragile flick, a serpent’s tongue kiss of the strongest coronal ejection might cause amiss, one flicker and we find out, how far out, we really might be, looking at this orange smoky mass that has descended down from northern neighbor’s town, and wonder which gods did we anger and how to supplicate them… until the next unseen event even if our sight is so young and bent (and jaded).
notes… the day when Canadian wildfires threw strength south, surely a strange site this made for a day, a light itch in my eyes and throats as the day progressed, the peak was around 2pm when I could look out my window and see the world as a red dying giant might, or will, someday.
this is the ire of the ire of night where we find no, we meet with, gladly- our demons, for they – our ours no reason, we choose them, we surely do, invite them, and as we choose to fight them or have a drink with them or a conversation at the bar or the backyard behind the barn, for- that is what we are individual beings thrown into this boiling ocean, as babes, all commotion and screaming facades and screens remaining until we come into our own, even off stage we are on- we carry on in this dream, a performance- and in those rare moments become us (for how long?)
we are, in a way a battery, a computer, a machine, flesh as it were, in this case, but does that make us more real… ? or less, who can say? were we out there- waiting, for the introduction, in utero, for ourselves to move in, the matching of being an electronic impulse, or some matter of energy, to meet and ultimately inhabit this being we now are? perhaps floating out there in the universe all this time as an ‘old soul’ as some describe, or perhaps a new wave, a new wave of energy created just in time to mate with the available and compatible fleshy machine in utero made available in that instant becoming one, a vehicle, to experience this world with the various senses, an explorer sent in, a navigator from the fabric of space, our self awareness might come from our previous state of being not a human being but the energy signature that has sparked this machine, a pilot, to remain as long as the vehicle shall allow, then to move on to the next phase of the journey, for physics states E=MC2, and are we not the manifestation of that indeed? if only we could touch those memories of our different phase…
so… are we here? I ask tongue in cheek with the background of ground breaking band’s song blaring in my flat at the moment.. it is intoxicating… in some sense, but the seriousness, the underlying question…
2am I am glad there was rain the familiar daylight houses look menacing at this hour but I know they are not but my mind- questions them anyway, so I go inside to have a dream down in this forest made by human beings; like myself.
perception is an interesting thing, how some people love change, some love comfort, I suppose you get used to either by exposure, and by exposure you gain experience, it is almost criminal you know, that we gather all this in a lifetime and can not transfer it… that is why I hope for an afterlife.. besides the obvious of the stopping of my existence, well, at least as time moves forward, I will have existed, but I am not sure what condolence that might leave me… as i leave…
in the mirror I can see the reality of age which we never see when we speak, as ages go by we try with wisdom but is wisdom just the passage of time and filling out the ledger of- experience.
Shades of My Garden 