If my soul was like a tree, I’d be firmly rooted on the ground. But still I’d grow, and learn perspective, and see the world for miles around. I could cleanse the air, restore the qi and refresh polluted energy. If my soul was like a tree, I’d give my limbs to keep you warm. I’d use my back to load your burdens, and to shelter you from harm. I’d wake each day and the sun would greet this photosynthesizing synisthete.
Beyond all the back and forth of everyday life. There is a time and place to sit and ponder. With this time comes ideas of what life should be, and what life most certainly is not. Ideas of what passions exist, and what is really possible in this tiny little world of ours. Beyond all of this, there is nothing more than what is, and what has been, and what is to come. This is why the artistic vision is in all of us, and why this vision tugs on all of our souls. Its because we do what we do because we love it, not because we have to, or because someone wants us to do it. We do it for us, for our friends, family, and complete strangers. We do it for love.
We are Lucky because This Time there’s that Sex Appeal that makes everyone Stop and Stare, and if we are not Ready To Go before the world implodes we my Fall In It, never to return, but if you truly do Want Me I will stay with you on this crumbling mountain until the voices urge us to Come Down Below, and venture Back To The Middle of all creation, where we will no longer be Broken, and even when we are far away we are Never Gone, like a Hot Little Rocket our legacies soar on through out time, and since I Can’t Make Up My Mind whether or not to leap from the sky and try to land in your heart, or accept defeat , take The Things I Still Do and Give It Up. It is this Memory Sickness that causes me to forget that I orignally came here on a Spaceship, and I don’t know where I am, and even when I am lost I promise I will wait for only you, for it will be such a rush.. when we dive head first into this Prickleberry Bush.