Blue Walks with Me
VOL
I/ii/iii
STARTING GRAVITY
Telius turbletickl trunk.
The monk,
the funk,
the future wit of it.
Sail away,
and make me a fabric to pray on,
to make my day on.
​
Sail away fortunes, delight and my absolute love.
I am time made in two.
I am time becoming closer and more affectionate.
I am the future related.
I am the sun simple.
It is simple
It is simple
It is simple.
Spring Seasonal
The things I knew, and the things I didn't.
​
As wide as the world was; it was quiet on several fronts.
If quiet signified the howling winds, the charismatic sunsets, the instances of sleep carrying us into that distancing sunset. Chasing the last colours, because you cannot wait.
​
Time was undoing itself.
And I licked the threads; as if my saliva could hold still to the possibilities of threading it to make something new.
​
I had everything I needed: Was the patient ones repeating verse. Over and over and over.
​
I cannot reach for the things I long for: the unspoken abysm of a constant forgetfulness.
I cannot find myself if I cannot reach for what I long for.
Night day, day night.
The rolling ocean floor.
The Good Life Threshold
An Instance of Beginning
Blue
The Good life.
Say it Loud, to the quiet world. Your heart brimming, singing a quiet interworlde heart song. Filling foundations of ecstasy in meeting your possibilities. Shoulders, quiet nights, easy ventures. And the things that just blow your mind. These are the steps just past the threshold. The moments of golden orange, vibrance in the palms of your hands.
Wishes that command and influence course ways.
Bright adventure that can only begin.
​
MULTIPLE TIMELINES: Rivers. Brim. Mist. Tears.
ILLICIT CORNERS: Trees. Condensation. Wishes.
THE UNDERBELLY: Venom. Words. Rest.
​
Multiple timelines? --Or threads adhering and dissolving. Making light come alive in the skies of our minds and of our wonder. As if an endless night could hold and unfold into lifetimes.
​
Save that, choices were made and that was a long time ago. I happened onto the watch that told me the time it was. Clocking words in my health. Clockings words, because joy had been my heart, filled with wonder and your height. Clamouring like a shimmering ripple the skin of your waist. I was feet and I was hands. It wasn't easy.
​
STARING AT GRAVITY
18
SISY
SWITCH
Slow Learners Rehab
LION'S
HEART
Still Spring
When you didn't learn your lesson. Or you tried but failed and now, all full of bruises and poisons in your gut.
​
THE GOOD LIFE THRESHOLD: This morning bright eyes I put my laundry in, but I didn't let it out to dry.
THE APPLE OF MY HEART: Star of Stars; asked me to go for a cosmic nite walk.
RISK & RESILIENCE: The conditions for risk? Faith, resources, connection to intuition and gut.
Resilience.
DESIGNING FOR CONTRARIANS: A thousand things to make me lose my step, wrip hair and lose sleep.
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THE CULTURE OF GENERATIVE FEEDBACK: Generative is beyond endless growth; encompasses cycles of life & death in their larger mysterious whole capacities. Generative designates a connective capacity of right relationship, that has a full toolset of life actions. Leaning on the intrinsic capacity for life ways is a beyond beyond kind of thing.
Deep Spring Seasonal
GOLDEN
BEARINGS
The fox and the bridge.
The grief, and the
Expanded possibilities.
the night and the light rain. The intoxication of new company.
One that easily encompasses and widens the circle.
Drawing from and into a greater circle.
Letting the becoming encompass us all.
We are dancing in a circle.
Spiralling.
The work that it takes to make things soft.
​
THE TAYLORS OF RECONSTRUCTION: The tailors are diaspora weavers. They have an eye for what is integral, the glimmer that holds value within crumbling facades. They reweave meaning and belonging. They unravel the seams of the inherent structures that do not fit. They rebuild structures that fit us with the crumbling worlds we are left with.
YOU'RE NOT MY AUDIENCE: It’s a big wide world. There are many lineages of wonder. Finding which one allows us to make sense of our possibilities is key.
LINEAGES OF WONDER: Those that were born from the folding of an ancient wind (FOAM). And were the first to cultivate wonder. The awe filling and spontaneous discoveries into the phenomena that emerge from the realm of movement within the relation-shapes of time and space. We are all mystery keepers.
The Story of Wonder
​
In the billows of a galactic wing.
Where fortunes made their beginning.
Time told a story.
It was
in play, and at that moment; it was, three steps in.
Where complexity begins
to settle,
lends its interest,
I am loud like ten thousand thunders. Gales
devastating all of your constructs.
I am the resilience of an elemental particle.
I am paired with the value of all things.
And so, in this fold, in a motion with no thought to matter,
but with greatest primordial thryst, the Weaver was born, Wonder.
Wonder had no thoughts.
Expressed themselves in stars. And in delight.
Vast and expansive, belonging utmost and at last.
A force full of reflection as Wonder came upon Delight.
For manifold was the universe’s expression,
even back then.
Even back then, there was more than just one.
Perhaps at some point it was not so, but even I cannot fathom such a thing.
(Can it ever have been?
If it can be so, is in each moment of creation
such a seed and portal back to that original oneness?)
In any case here was Wonder. Very utmost and focused.
For with immense Presence had Wonder been borne.
And so as a birthright, Wonder continued in so far.
Whether was resting with peace upon their whole,
or smashing particles writhe with ferocity
as a pull of unknown origin could lay no other possibility
than an impetus as this.
Wonder followed Whim, for there was no other instruction.
No force of inference or no other than themselves which to belong.
That is until,
Two Paths presented themselves.
At which. they became:
Wonder-Which-Way.
Was it really two paths? Only?
Indeed, it was not.
It was: Possibility.
Sly and Deceptful.
Possibility did not mean it to be so.
But there was some strange sickness. That they had fallen in with,
some great pitfall which they harboured. Even for them it was
beyond their understanding, their investigations had been
as if barred from such knowing.
And this was how Deceit had latched on.
Unknown and accepted to be whole.
Wonder-Which-Way,
had hesitated.
Had made a remark and
lost track and lost time.
It could get split
and yet
Wonder-Which-Way held back.
Waited,
unwillingly,
and yet waited.
Cracks. Rips in fabric different than had been before.
As things tugged and were stuck, pulling in different directions.
Wonder-Which-Way wondered,
Meeting Possibility,
and unknowingly Deceit,
wondered.
Because Possibility,
was not
like how it had been before….
Ah ha! When Wonder-Which-Way realized this!
It set off a chain reaction of thoughts. Restorative ones.
They bubbled up into the locomotion, as Wonder-Which-Way
leaned right into a full roll
and bulldozed Possibility with their weight.
Wonder was so full and heavy,
there was no room for Deceit!
And Deceit flew out into the wide world,
where Deceit was no longer Deceit.
Maybe Embarrassment,
but really Possibility became Opportunity,
and then Opportunity-To-Learn.
Wonder was Wonder again!
Laughing to themselves
holding and folding this special-card in,
the special card
of Leaning Into Possibility
So As To Leave No Room For Deceit!
Chuckle chuckle
Wonder Wonder let theirselves
take this laughter, be the fill of Possibilities.
For in that meeting,
Wonder now Possibility held.