The Art of communicating while the ' others ' slept, probably out getting drunk and engaging in unnatural acts with beast and ' likeness.' The Art of creating the light of mind, heart and soul, the light of a beautiful Angle blowing across the surface of Lady Bird Lake, so gently, as to carry the lightness of being as act of love and understanding across time. Only to ' hear ' off in distant minds in proximity, " Why did you do that? " Those simple minded, foolish beings who's reflection are only one, I gave no answer. ' Everyone should be Gay! ' Legion said. They diminished in my thoughts.
Then to find the next issue of a news magazine, the false leader of a photo on the front cover, of a wounded heart of a child searching for some THREAD of comprehension as to why her father lay dead beneath her; this child of G-D too, this daughter of her mother too, as she blows the Winds of Love, the Breath across the Planes of the Dead. The Father.
Her father, her creation's blessings; this Coptic Christian's child cries will never be answered by Lucifer, The West in answers or but one, for her.
Yet you go to your temples separated by hundreds of years only to worship your donations.' You're ' money!
BL....
A DISTANT MEXICO
The child not knowing it was so, cut apart the bony remnants of fin from the porpoise's rotting mass; the last of tendons finely gave way. He carried it to a well worn spot on the beach just near enough to the rocks where the Tecate sat. The flies claimed the last of the peeled limes left to the sand.
To wander down in and out of what I once used to fly above, the mountains below with family and all those president ' friends.' I have ' seen ' to decisions being made in these moments, as now to occupy this decided moment in that which was once mine, ' my hand, I think.' Nadda thought.
All ' my ' digit's seemed intact next to the ' other ' and all it's possessions. ' Why would it need that is, that's mine? ' Nadda's reflection stopped the process of ' memory ' midstream.
Of all ' she ' was ' he,' looked from all that was collecting, mists of waters and age that have long since left so many memories to just where sight would be found. Just words left to mud and stylist. Yet he saw that yes, that was once his hand...a hand of so many ages left to ' time.'
' I exampled ' this view, this 'memory.'
Nadda's approximation of where ' her 'eye's should be, mirrored the other holding ' her ' hand. But now she saw the difference between the the two, stopped, separated in voids of age, voids of time; ' her ' hands. The bones of that which the ' other ' held, this mineral.?...were slightly bigger and more closely arranged, while the digits seemed longer...?
The surrounding waves and sea mist never gave away the presence of that which has always been, within ' these,' the only focus, this repetition; an eternal ' discussion ' of life, left to stylist but of who's hand?
Nathan examined the fin remnant, exacting in bone down to the last digit, not knowing any good reason why he cut the remains away from the body. He just pondered the ' makings ' of such a wonderful beast and why the fishermen weren't more careful with their nets. The last of the nylon weave protrudment for any form of nourishment, visible.
He layed down the fin of bone next to him, but as he did so the sun which was behind the bones blazed into his eyes. He layed the bones to his side . As he rubbed his eyes the silhouette of a woman made of light flushed across his visual cortex, one, then many, only to become thousands in a progression of even greater height and size, somehow out of context, exceeding any definition of ceiling or sky; alas form, but as to what understanding? All complimenting the next in a living ballet of motion as if a ' sounding ' in language, almost music in an excited bewilderment in remembrance. Song.
...INK
The lessor of the Artist let his pen rest in a vacancy of moment that seemed as if days. A whisper crossed his brow to the back of his head and top of ' mind,' " I WILL MOVE THE LANDS OF MY SON AND YOU WILL LOSE ONE OF YOUR IDOLS. "
The lessor of all Artist saw the Middle East and a ' Mountain ' fell.
The other soon, across the world...FELL. And all peoples of the region understood in wonderment and heard the ' VOICE ' of ALL and left everything for The Lands of Israel. By the millions the Arabs moved and were not harmed by Israel but by their own Father and Brothers...
BRING NO WEAPONS TO MY WIFE'S SIDE, ONLY YOUR FAITH, FOR I AM HE ALSO...or I am none, as your children and sisters, left to only BROTHERS. Understand the WORD OF ......................................................................................................
for you were fooled in ages by only ' men.'
NADDA'S ...tear spent the oceans. A great light was seen...SPANNED AS TWO GREAT EYES< UNDERSTOOD BY SOME AS WINGS ACROSS THE OCEAN'S LAND ( S..een )....
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