Portrait Shows Truth

Some things are not always what they seem.  Yet change is a direction worth understanding and light does not lie.

I came here to find an outlet and I discovered a reason.  No reason should be left uncovered because it can lead to deeper truth.

It dawned on me that I needed to shift to the left, but I didn’t understand the reason.  So I remained where I stood.  Who knew.

Reaching for knowledge isn’t like reaching for flower.  Or is it?  When’s the last time you went hunting for knowledge after being startled awake from your dream?

A poem does not press well in a book.  It needs breath.  A tongue shall release knowledge like a poem.  And a portrait will eventually show truth.

As my lens traces light . . . knowledge will become known.

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She’s Ballanced

I looked at her as she stood there.  Her majesty, her destiny.

Like a poem she moved across the sky, standing still.  As still as words in a child’s book.

I was jealous of her grip.  She was strong and I was weak.  Weak but not frail because I have knowledge.

Her knowledge, her story, her whisper sends chills through my soul.  She doesn’t haunt me . . . she just is . . .

Do you recognize decay?  Do you feel growing pains?  Or do you exist to express your soul?

I turned.

I found her in my sight.  She was not a portrait, she was more.  So, I traced her light with my lens.

I pondered as she wooed me into the very stillness of her thought.  Though I was not fooled!

I am my own.

Am I doing what’s good for my soul?

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Live like you were dying?

Live like you were dying  . . . I never liked that saying.  It just seems so morbid.  Live for today is another term we often hear that is suppose to encourage us to value life.

We like to create reasons to endure this life instead of understanding that life is simply, breath. To live like you're dying is to live anxiously and desperately.  Our journey towards death begins at conception and concludes after our last breath.  In contrast to eternity which began before breath and does not expire.

Yet life does not begin with our own breath, it begins with the breath of our mother and father . . . some say it begins with God.  We inhale before we exhale.  We take in life before we give life.

Why ponder on reasons to exist?  Why search for the purpose of our breath?  Why seek the creator when we've already been found?

Live.

I draw songs from breath.  I don't search for the song; the song finds me.  The song existed before me and I only need to have ears to hear it.  My muse is everything outside my skin and everything inside my spirit, soul and body.

Why do I stand where I stand and breath?  To live.

From Seattle March 2012