A thousand years ago humans like us were pushing stones around. We would get bags of salt for our work. We would trade salt for other commodities. In the day?

On this living jewel sparkling of blues, greens, browns, whites, reds, and yellows, we live.
In life there is the music of the living world.
Like the earliest flute that took itself to copy the birds, let the music come from our experience to the experience of others.
As we grew on this jewel many felt it was not enough to have the language of music so they added words. Many listen to the music and ignore the words except as another instrument of sound.
Some listen to the words to find connection.
Some words and music become one to unify the struggle or joy of living together. The work song the Gandy Dancer sings or the Gospel rejoice.

In the darkness of humanity the slave sings the song of pain.
In the light of humanity the slave sings the song of freedom.
Fear is the song of the enslaver, Love is song of the emancipator.

The clouds are crying. Our jewel, our home, our lovely planet, is crying. We are our planet. We are of it, we are the minerals, the water, the air, the song of this jewel Earth.
With our love, compassion and respect for our jewel, we respect ourselves, our loved ones, and each other.

Let the song of our hearts forge our spirit to help elevate us all out of darkness and into light.
We polish the jewel we are and we bring joy to ourselves and others.
May every breathe you take bring you strength and compassion.

Two crows came up the ravine. Just above tree tops. Heading above the bridge and past a great straggly Australian tree. The sky darkening in the east and the Sun a memory of twilight. They twist their heads while chatting in Crow talk. They are heading for the Rookery in the city Park about a half mile away.
Thinking out loud those noisy Crows.

Listening to the mind is an art that we can do.
When we are children we tend to blurt out what is on our mind. Soon we learn that there are rules of engagement in talking. Some of the rules are like painted lines on a road. We agree not cross the line unless there is a clear designation.
We see the line in the road.
We hear the words of another.
We see the last cookie on the tray.
We think.
We make a choice and the we decide on how to act on that choice.

Who is listening to the mind?

If your mind is you, then who is listening to the mind?

Dancing in conversation.
It is what I feel like when talking with others, at times.
I want it to be a relationship of a rythym outside ourselves. Like a breeze filling the sails of a ship we are both aboard.
I feel safe and yet a gentle apprehension that stimulates the alertness we feel in change.
Is that so much to ask?
I wonder. I know others wonder about it as well.
Words can come like a bolt out of the blue. Or a foot stepping on a toe.
Pain...
Words can move in the breeze under a Spring Sun like a golden blessing on a field of Black eyed Susans.

Words can move like dust devils over a childhood play ground.
As children we look in the excitement of Wonder.
As adults what do we do?

I pray you look as a child with the gentle breeze of wisdom when dancing in conversation.
Feel the refreshing Sun upon your face like the Black eyed Susans and let the electric excitement of Bolt lightening lift you and those you are with....Up!

Moving is a two edged sword. Leaving the familiar for the unfamiliar.
Familiar is safe and known. Moving is change and the unfamiliar.
It is edgey but not without excitement.
We move from room to room without fear yet as our moves get larger we feel tension.
We find ourselves alert to differences and new ways of operating.
The change can be a burden or a boost.
It is a boost when we look foreward and egage the new and fear the loss of the old.
Really we lose nothing. Fear just trys to protect us with no regard for adventure. fear is the enemy; caution is fear's reasonable older sibling.
Moving across country or moving across town. What, really, is the big difference?
What is there to fear from seeing new things, having new challenges, and meeting new people?
Let's enjoy the enrichment of our lives and move about.
Happy Trails?

Making bread.
Yeast and sugar excess.
Coming back to the kitchen.
Leviathan Rising!

A Leviathan rising from the total ink of unlighted depths; rising within a whisper. The indifferent abyss Falling away from where sonic dreams are the world of mental images in translation.
The leviathan guiding it's ascent with vestigial hands gloved in flukes.
The engine of mass propulsion a symphony of muscular expression.

Rising and changing from sound to the wonder of light. Letting go of one and gaining the other.
One sense for another as compression releases it's fastidious wrappings. Gases expand and the imperative of breathe begins distant teasing.
The Leviathan delights in anticipation.
Light and defused illumination dominate the transition as the Leviathan arches as it breaks through to the surface.
Nostrils flair and gases blow away the water.
And a great rush of air upon intake is now sound in a different realm, a different environment.
And with this air comes warmth filled with a brilliant kaleidoscope of scented and sensations.
At once a journey is completed and begun. They become one and the same.

Like our thoughts that are so submerged and then surface; completed yet beginning.
What a grand adventure we are on.
No lubbers here!