Fleeting fear

And sometimes a fear – fear that this drift of a life cheats the world of something.


Plenty of us live and die, contributing nothing but thousands of toilet flushes and meaningless performances for the benefit of . . . not sure exactly who.

Things done for money that might otherwise not have been done – and would not have mattered anyway.

No net gain for employer or employed.

How to regret absurdity?

Knowing is talent enough. Talent unsquandered.

A light into a dark cave of puppet shows.

Actors with intensity but no real characters underneath.

And the cave light will go out one day.

For the man once a committed actor.

Insanity done over and over again – copying its first instance.

Hiking trails of outside symbols and interior thought.

Placing finger shadows on the wall of the world and loving that as sufficient.

A how-to guide for losing minds.

Simple rejection of the games being played – the roles cast and the scripts provided – and the agreements made.

Dis-agreement. Noside.

Clear seeing.

Wandering into truths where and how they are.

Raindrops falling.

Moss on tree sides.

Whistling past graveyards.

Laughing at the nonsense of hidden animals.

Seeing a creek’s water one day and its other water the next.

Stars different every morning.

The old witch of a woman jogging the hill.

Energy and light and waves coming off of a glowing street light.

Nothing feared.

Everything seen in its place.

Everything lost and everything gained.