How I found My MuchnessAn Epic EpochBy: Nikki Payne9/18/2020 (entirety)

How I found My Muchness

An Epic Epoch

By: Nikki Payne
9/18/2020

Dedication

Dedicated to my children, who will probably never understand me, however, I am sure will understand portions of Love's written Word. for they each share my heart, my stubbornness, and their own parts in the finding of My Muchness. 

Sabastian, Two, Season, and Nova.

Thank you all for your many lessons in my own eternal growing of Self.

Prologue

   I loved him... Hell... I've loved them all! I gave all of me... Wholeheartedly... To each often... From the start... I mean... Who does that? Like, I haven't even shopped his store before... Why would I pay for EVERYTHING UP FRONT... never having sampled his line of shit! 

(Drum, Drum, Drum) this is the story of: How I found My Muchness.

   As I sat there and called all my pieces back to me while lazily lighting my cigar... Again... I felt almost detached from any real healing coming in. I never dreamed the next step of my life would be so bold, so steep... So… WoW! Fucking Real! Why? why I had asked myself... And before I could even verbally form the whole question my answer came ringing through like a Catholic Mass Bell through town…

   Because this is the only way you would learn the lesson Nikki. The only way you would remember and the only way you would feel compelled to share it with not only the world... But your Self as well….

   As I sat pondering if I was 4,212 or 4 years old at the moment my blue jay came squawking. Screeching his lovely tune through my mind to shake me back to pen in hand. Tears streamed down my face emotion I no longer wished to contain floated through the ink like it had been there... Waiting all the while. I wondered how to express these feelings, insights, newnesses of muchness I had accepted into my beingness and he entered into my mind once again... he had many names, faces, embodiments he had mastered in his displaying of oneself to me but there was one in particular I like to begin with, the end, or so I thought…

   So cleverly his name disguised as human and emotion at the same time. Contained in speckles of freckled miracles all along his radiant outline of physical form, lines on his face showed of deep thought and deep happiness both at the same time. He appeared as a mystery to me which I greatly enjoyed for until Phil entered into my energy field no one had ever been able to surprise me and oh how I enjoyed surprises... Especially the ones you could feel.

   Now at this point I suppose I should address that I in no way give all credit to this man for my muchness... It is after all, my muchness... however, I do have the beautiful ability to now share the honor of my own beauty with all the men who had entered and left my life. Each helping me along my journey in his own unique and lovely way. Please remember one's perception of  "lovely"often differs from another and in finding my muchness this was the most valuable lesson obtained retained reframed and now to entertain... With all.

   I suppose the importance of each is as  majestic holy and downright as important as the verses of the Bible so each loving light showing profit is entitled, no... Worthy of... Their own book, or chapter. ( In no certain order of time framed timeline as each lesson followed No "linear" path... Thank goodness that would have proved quite boring!)

         Phil/David... It was, always David.

   Phil reminded me it was okay to feel and that I had quite a few buried feelings and every time I would feel, I'd feel David. Phil reminded me I desire joy in my life and every time I would have, or think of, Joy... I thought of David. I didn't realize how many emotions (feelings) I had been suppressing by going on with my works of spiritual learnings until I suppose there were no more healings to be done at this point and that is when I mostly remembered, thought of, and desired, David.

   David was my blue boy My Free Bird my energy that connected me to my innocent (not so innocent) youth. Even in our forties we were just young lovers, old friends, and two hearts separated by one confused fire ever burning. Even now the tears pour from my heavens basking in the longing for my david. I didn't know how to let him go although it had been months and I had heard of his engagement weeks before I didn't want to learn to let him go. Oh no. Not my beloved David. My innocence, my youth, my passion, my fire, my heart's and souls only true desire, my blue boy, my eternal, my David.

   I believe Divine time enjoyed playing between us. Our flame could rekindle the warmth of the whole world in a single smile. Divinity itself was probably fearful of the consumption available if ourselves ever aligned or misaligned for that matter. Have you ever known someone as the leaves know the breeze on a fall day is coming to wipe them away. To lay up on the ground watching winter do its best to strangle out any life weaker than its own month of living death. As each leaf decides to cling until its own perfect time to release and finally fly to its shallow grave. Knowing after the months of composing under the once shade of its own house shadow that new replacement would face the same never ending challenges of the cycle of love, life, and winter. That was our love my David the tree and I every leaf. Deciding the balance between destiny and fate Fall after Fall after Fall. Come Autumn your winter awaits.

                                   Yernasia

   Out of the blue. Oh my love for you... Curiouser and curiouser I grew and grew. Led me back to and through. My appreciation for, of, to, and by every truth and every lie, there was always glowing in the trees another wish another dream. I chose with great painful Glee to lovingly endure each part of me. Like the sprout inevitably breaking Free and growing from the shell that had housed this seed. Don't leave me, don't leave, I would whisper between Howls of the most painfully beautiful growth. For the only part of tree and leaf that grows from its own self once is the encasing that held it in its first moment... before blossom before Bloom before even it's reoccurring living wake of death and rebirth... There was and always will be Yernasia. Allowing the splitting of self, ever knowing the growing from within is where they begin and end. What love, what strength, what loving courage. As I whispered his name I knew he was gone and I would never be alone. Oh yarnasia, my path home. For time nor distance could not separate growth from the inevitable growing of a seed. so loved, so cherished, so supported to leave its case and find, through the darkened unknown of its own light, to break through and Bloom... Soon Yernasia… soon I shall flower into the beauty you imagined for me. For the spring came early and death had no hold on our original love. The surface wasn't even the start, it was only the first glimpse of an eternal spark already created and on its way to meet itself in the golden light. The light that each passing morning shall always remind me of you, and this miraculous knowledge that dreams truly do come true in wonderful shapes and colors and smells and dressed in the angels of heavens and hells.

   I didn't know which was more difficult… "Letting Go" or "Admitting" I had a hard time "Letting Go"... However, I am able to admit, I had a hard time letting go. My heart was consumed by sorrow supplied by my head. I had bridged the gap between the two the only way I knew how, through a River of tears I found "flow" and was finally able to move through emotion that had kept me stuck in my prison of self-inflicted confliction for so long. It was like a comforting resting place in one's home of despair. I could hold each tear and reflect on its memory like a crystal ball floating by and round... Was it waiting for me or had I been awaiting its arrival as I sat an pondered weapily in my comfort of doubt

   "I miss you" my mind kept saying through my lips. Each whisper another lie, I missed nothing I thought of, each glimpse caught in the reflection of the sorrow River bridging the gap, and then like all moments of Time seasons change and so do mine. The cold brought warm thoughts remembrances of Autumn's falling leaves... Leaves, trees, and oh again the sun Shone upon my David. Goodbye bluebird it's time to fly, goodbye sorrow River Frozen in time. goodbye my forever my eternal love of mine, goodbye passion it's now just the flame and i, goodbye I whispered through bloodshot eyes, goodbye, goodbye, goodbye…

    "one does not need to understand once reaching inner knowing,

     There is much one sacrifices when forever growing"...

   I no longer "took" time... As I had embraced the essence of each moment's gifts... Given by time, through time, and even for time. As I moved in stumbling motions recollecting my muchness... This is after all, how I found again... My muchness I had self-hidden... Within without... all around as signs symbols and synchronicities in plain sights only seen through the opening of my mind's eye, gently watered again and again through each drop of growing memories. No longer fearful of Summer's heat no longer live I dying in the cave of retreat each step bridging me closer to me and the weight of my muchness light as the feather left for me by my blue boy, my David, again, my David... It was always, my David, after all…

   No longer I desire to be wild as the wind

Or Baron as the desert when it needed a friend

Or to consume the planet like an ocean with no control

In my heart burned a fire carried on Hell's coals

To the tip top of the heavens and even beyond

Over my shoulder I caught a glimpse of the coming Dawn

With the lights all behind me stars in my face

Here I had decided I would co-create

With Love's growing blossoms the integrity of the sun

The stillness of night's beauty we become one

One within self no longer any doubt

Oh how far I chose to go to live life without

…. David...

   Have you ever given up on a dream? Nor had I. Today would be delivered the snippets of songs I had stitched together like poetry I had written myself. All stolen pieces of others love that had boiled and intertwined with the same emotions, feelings, and desires I held for my own broken heart. I had no desire for the stitching to hold once read by my love's eyes, each teardrop from my pen hoping to soothe and rekindle loves own flame within. 

   However, I cling to no certain outcome, only the innermost knowing that love would meet love and its own warming embers and color each word with the beauty of growth, of life, of flames eternal day and night. It would reach, I had no doubt, that is what I held on to... The sun rising again to kiss the bloom each Bloom day after Moon after Moon until the new moon came like a thief in the night and the only illumination is our own internal light... Shine brightly blue boy my flames still a glow... I'll hold love as you continue to grow.

   "Just as the crumbling of the tower Stone becomes one with Earth again

   So do all things come back together to begin from its end"...

   The stronger the mortar, bit by crumbling bit, we had time and again formed love from it, but oh how hard the fall even in the knowing love rebuilds all...

   Still all words may not form however emotion is felt there

Breathe in exhale, still alert

Myself becomes aware.

   Pulsing ringing waves of Love at times to our despair

Breathe in exhale, still alert

Ourselves become aware.

   The keys of Life need no ring attached to every and no thing dream, dance, live, believe

Allow Love's selves authentically…

See! Sing!

   As each pen became hollow so did I, no longer full of life's sorrow of lies. I chipped gently away and the Frozen time rewarmed by flowing emotion line after line. The bridge between had began to melt, yet still connected through the flowing flame. No longer rage, no one to blame, for we were after all one in the same. 

   What I felt he endured Time after Time . I struggled to cling to a love such as mine. To convince, no believe, I was divine, came easier through his heart then into mine. My muchness I would find, again inside... To thine own self be true... It is all within you. you're muchness will be found, open your energies, you are all around… In each sunrise and set, each moon beam you catch... The flowers, the breeze... Every flying dying leaf... Trust the trees, they smile through the rain and always bridge the gap, warmth the sorrows of your pain, loves flame is eternal, internal, external glow, each colored ember leads to the flow... Of my david... My muchness... Blessed be loved...

   Do the color of the embers that set your soul a glow

Matter if they're red blue green orange or yellow

When it is the fire of Love's eternal flame you seek to warm your aching bones

One learns to appreciate each ember leading home...

                     Ernest and Frank "Brute"

   Brute had a great love for children and I suppose he saw the child in me from the start. Making the kids on the bus leave me alone and saving my seat in the back for the duration of my rides. With tears in his eyes I understood he only ever wanted to make sure me and ol' Boo we're always safe. He didn't like us sleeping in tents or under trees in my old Ford so he gave us a home with him. My own world to decorate as I wished situated comfortably in his backyard. Surrounded by the ancients of his own beloved family where granny died, he was born, and many a family function had taken place. It's true we finally "felt" safe.

   I was his tutu wearing yard dog and boo got his own chair at the table. I could tell him anything. All the thoughts desires and wishes of my child like self. He didn't understand and he didn't pretend to. He just listened and at times he held me when I cried and restoked my dying embers just in time with words of wisdom whispered to his heart he kept nothing from me hurt feelings or not. He was the truest friend I ever had. Still Tangled in family heartbreak of his own passing father, the settlement of the land, and the future of his own balance of head and heart. We were different, yet the same in so many ways and I suppose, that was our bond, well, and our enormous love for BooBoo.

   He watched every move I played with my broken heart pieces and never interfered yet always there to hold me or scold me. It hurt him, watching all I chose to put my own self through. Then one day he decided enough was enough and no longer did The spoils of my own war insue me. Guarding the threshold of the yard no man got far enough again to begin my towers crumble. He made sure of it, inviting each one into his own kingdom of kitchen tables without my knowledge. He simply said to each "if you do to her what David did I'll destroy you myself, she's worth more than a broken heart". Most only came around a couple times. I suppose they saw my worth, my innocent love, and shakingly remembered the words spoken in secrecy by my Brute, my Earnest and Frank, my truest friend.

   This place that so kindly housed me while itself stuck between the war of heartbreak, shame, and family blame is where I found much of my muchness... My foundation of self... Wrapped in the arms of brute love even amongst his own wars internal and external. However, we were there for one another as friends, as family, and as listeners without judgments. Only love.

   I do not care to understand, the yogo love one gives a "child"

Does it matter if they've killed or walked with God for miles

   How does one refrain restrain restrict convict a heart

Who openly courageously denies one created copart

   Would it mean more or less whether Horned or God and Goddess

Can one truly turn away turn love off like night to day

   Love... Always prevails be it beast angel or man

Would you choose different friends or even family if you could choose again…

   I found solace in solitude gave way my attitude and for the first time I was home... My own skin... My muchness... Hello old friend...

   As I woke this morning the fog was thick and hanging, helping to define all the faces in the trees. I could tell the war was settling. The two days prior orange sacred flames engulfed the space between, much healing had been done . The trees felt somewhat victorious amongst all the confusing smoke rising to meet the clouds and tell their own story across the Earth to any who were actively listening. There were many new faces. Some of concern and excitement others just peering in for a glimpse of their accomplishments through human eyes... so, I danced and sang a song of gratitude, the birds came back around to help lift the confusion with the waving of their wings carrying my song up to the heavens. Through all confusion comes clarity of thought, aligning mind with heart, and it was up to me to make a start on this day, in this place, my own personal fortress of heavens and hells. Then again after all I thought of him, of them, and my loving heart... I decided this morning I would lay up on the ground and give all the love I contained back into the Earth to disperse as it's so chose, amongst the inhabitants and its own beautiful self. Singing the song into the dirt I surrendered and gave way to gratitude...

                             Grateful Am I

Grateful am I grateful I be grateful I am in all seen and unseen 

Oh grateful oh grateful is me

My feet touch the Earth my hands to the sky my soul connects and oh me oh my

Oh grateful oh grateful is me

I feel you here yes I know you're there and as we connect all is everywhere

Oh grateful oh grateful is me

Oh grateful oh grateful is thee

Oh grateful oh grateful is me

    BooBack, Boozie, Bokito, BooBoo WaaWaa

   Another morning of fog and frogs and confusion. I set working the jumbo word search my daughter had brought me the day before. Looking for the word "change" brought many memories flooding in. The horn honked, Brute was gone and again it was boo and I alone at the table... And again my mind drifted to David…

   As I sit at this table we made together

Inside the walls we painted together

Looking at the bed where we made love together

I'm left still pondering wondering why we are not together

   I found two feathers stuck together

Twins from the owl left in our forever

I know in my heart you'll be coming home

When your days of growing are sown are sown

   I want to burn down these walls

I've tempered my flame

Loves dying embers rekindled again…

Again…

   I'll send words of our love till I run out of stamp

As I sit in our love, warm fires, tears damp...

   Words seem to soothe me, but change was always hard I've heard said. However, I tend to disagree (I tend to disagree a lot). Change isn't "hard", change is inevitable. It'ss the adjusting one always finds uncomfortable, and comfort for me was diminishing rapidly anymore. And for this (like most uncomfortable moments) I was grateful. For it takes quite a stirring from the oars in the stars to start the universe moving and only time would tell the secrets that would overspill out onto the Earth and all throughout the galaxies. if it weren't for the churning of learning, the pain of growth, one would not make room for "new" and newness was my birthright I had chosen, when deciding to be born again into my fresh raw skin of Muchness.

   However, "change" would have to wait at least in the jumbo book as BooBoo was doing his best to hear my ridiculous laugh this morning. Digging his face into the bed clawing wildly shaking his tail, This was after all his best move for receiving the attention he desired... And in that beautiful moment a glimpse of clarity. Change had occurred, as I stepped away from my fierce search and enjoyed the moment laughing crazily at ol' Boo and all his magnificent wisdom of all I could ever need at precisely the Divine moment… BooBoo, my onliest man ever, the longest relationship I've ever been in and he loved me whether I had food in my hands or not. I could tell what I was truly feeling looking into his eyes. My truth mirror never lied. He displayed outwardly with the courage of a lion what I could often hide from my own self, fear, rage, desire. BooBoo had no walls to build around his emotions. He had one goal at all times, me. And we shared a love I had never experienced with a human, not even David. His love and mine was sacred, written in the stars before we were aware and oh what eventful years we had together, that ol' Boo and I. There is an old song about old dogs, children, and strawberry wine I found to be a favorite of mine and often reminded me of Boo.

   The word jumped from the page as if it was never hidden in the jumbo search. "Change" had been found... No, presented, and I accepted it, like it was as easy as finding a word in a book. I enjoyed the morning like many others stroking boobacks ego the way he justly deserved until he fell asleep, head tucked tightly under blanket and left me once again to discover my own self-emotion without his reflection cast upon me... Again I went to the table and peered out the door to receive messages from the trees.

                          "Falcor" The Falcon

   I was rattled by the squawking of the birds. I could hear through their chirps sharp shrill and quick Falcor my glorious falcon was about the heavens calling me out to see the sun and the splendor of his magnificence. Gliding overhead casting Shadow upon myself and the ground, majestic beauty I had finally perceived of his presence. However, I must admit in our first encounters there was no sharing of my admiration for him. As it was spring an the birds had been heavy in the yard this year I had tremendous worry, or fear rather, for the birds flying around looking for food to feed their offspring, that the falcon would swoop down and take his prey and the babies would be left to suffer their first birth with starvation death if denied their mother's return.

   I took about clanking through the yard when the bluebirds would call me out alerting to his arrival. Each day, a fine shiny pot and a large Rusty screw, were my weapons of choice. Squawking my own cawcaw cawcaw through the yard , I ran banging the pot with screw in hand, circling the yard like a mighty warrior of noise to save the mothers for their children. Then one day on a ride home with the "Angel cab driver" I had met and enjoyed conversing with before, He and I were speaking of animals. His favorite being my own creation from when I was but a star rebelling. The platypus. I asked him about birds of prey and to my excitement and newness of knowledge obtained through him, he was a very informative person for the subject. He told me of their splendor in the way they embrace their prey. Free falling with wings in plummeting towards their goals ever knowing the skills they inherently possess to utilize their protruding tooth-shaped beak to surgically sever the cord of the animal in one swift motion during the timely meeting of talon and prey, mid-air, during their own courageous free fall. Their catch being inevitably lifted to spirit with no torture of its own death And in that moment I found respect for the creature, the falcon, my Falcor. And when he came came again I no longer displayed my noise warrior, I sat gently upon the Earth like the falcons heart for it's preys death, and with loving respect, much like the falcons choice of killing, I stilled myself and opened my energies to the falcon and asked but one wish from his highness "Please do not take the mothers or others still feeding their young" and in that moment we had connected and made an agreement... He would show mercy, and I dignity. Falcor came to visit every day. He missed my uniquely hilarious display through the yard. He told me many times he showed just for my so thought clever heroics, and so many times after that conversation when the blues would alert me of his presence I would go into the yard and perform for him. Some days I would dance others I sang always I waved and screamed his name Falcor! However, my favorite was the days he would circle around with me. I in my sundress arms spread out and soaring around the yard, together we flew many times Falcor and I. 

   Our connection was that of more than mere friends. but of two different creatures on the same planet sharing mutual respect, appreciation, and love of flying dance... Dance... dance... Oh how I miss dancing with him... My David... Yes again... My thoughts, my feelings, my emotion, drifted into my head at the times we held one another and danced, sometimes to music, sometimes to the sound of our own hearts beating in unison. Sweetly, crazily. Silly at times I could not hold back the laughter through my tears. It's a strange thing feeling sadness, longing, and remembering Joy's warmth all in the same moment the face wrestles as do the emotions. To look upon someone in a moment such as this you wouldn't know whether to reach for them or turn away. As only one who understands would close their own eyes for a breathless moment before reaching towards any other thought to be had to break the constraints felt trying to stiffen the heart. Like a grandfather clock whose ticked its last tock holds on to that moment in time forever, so had my heart for the love of David, of dance, of innocence and growth. Doing my best to heal any spot that could become dis-eased and rot away the next beat. Medication nor Doctor had the remedy my heart would need. It was somewhere amongst the flow of Frozen time and flaming River bridge between heart space and mind, the Soul I suppose, my bridging gap, the source of my Muchness, my love, my saving Grace... And my David.

   Phil had come for a visit this day and I nor he were quite the same as all things shift with times ever moving hand. I held back for the first time since the first time with this man. We set for a spell at the table talking of nothing of substance. Then both to the bed that we had held and shared many raw feelings in time and visit before, But not this time, not this visit. Neither quite sure how to address the other we laid quietly separate and watched the end of one movie, pretended to nap in our own busy blank minds, and I started another. A good movie we both liked, however he and I both knew his visit was short, too short to talk, too cramped to watch a movie. And like all times before his time had expired and the words he often spoke came out again only this time to be caught by the wind instead of the warm embrace of his friend. We both knew why only neither would allow it's coming together in form. We said our generic goodbye. As he walked away whispering the wish of returning I yelled through the window the only truth of this visit today "I love you! Be safe!" and he drove away. This time not looking back to catch a last view of my warmth for this time it was to each our own to hold our flames.

   I went back to the door as he drove away and looked to the trees for their message of how I'd fared in this meeting and was greeted by the hummingbird and I knew I had pleased the heavens. Not by withholding but withstanding... Self-respect was gifted this day and I had a witness through my friend of feelings, Phil. He had brought me my most favorite gift of death. A cheap pack of cigars. I enjoyed holding the fatness of each one between my fingers as I sat in contemplation of the days. And I gave him the gift of life as I read him his cards. He had completed some task of Fate bestowed upon him through bloodline, ancestry of family ties left to him to fulfill. His cards read of a miracle he was to receive though I couldn't tell what only that he had done something to recover a key of his own, and that he needed to give himself some credit because it was completed through his loving heart. He of course led on he had no idea of what it was he'd done. I assumed the key miracle given to him was to use upon his own heart he fought so hard to keep hidden, as we all do, when one's heart is the size of the world and all its inhabitants. Thinking back I would have liked to have nurtured him after what I read in the cards but I suppose that was not to take place this day, this visit, this time. So I allowed my mind to be caught up again in the mind of another and continued back to the movie.

   I was no longer concerned when one would return, a thing I had learned through David... And like a thief casing an address before breaking in, again about my mind stole David…

  

 I was no longer "giving" myself away and as I watched the leaves start to change colors and the first courageous few take their final leap of faith to their eternal resting place I began to imagine each one holding something I myself had let go of. Taking it with it to its own composing death never to return in its former form of leaf on tree but after the winter and just as spring to rebirth as clovers, flowers, or wild grasses under its own once home of bark and limb, the tree of its first life and home. Shaded by its own dazed memories of basking high above the ground it now held close too, its own shadow of knowledge keeping it from burning and withering in the sun as I myself had once done clinging to the light of my David. Drawing life from his own I had called him my home oh so many moons ago. I like the leaf that would fall, rot, and flower had decided to let go and drift sleeplessly to My own foundation of growth and spring forth from my newness, my rebirth, my Muchness. A nap would not come easy but I did enjoy trying to fool myself so again I went to the bed trying not to think of him, them, or the love that had been made in it. I laid there listening to nothing thinking of everything and still knowingly fooling myself, I daydreamed of sleep and night dreams and contemplated pondering some more. I peered out to the trees again for any midday messages before drifting off accidentally into my nap. BooBoo by my side I pretended rest was upon me.

   I had fallen asleep crying that night longing for connection I knew I already had. I spoke to him often in my mind and forced myself to believe the answers received were not from him, my Yernasia. We spoke in short spurts for words were never needed between the two of us, a sprout never forgets The echoes of its casing that had held it from its start in its own imagination first. I longed for the days of messages I could read outright and clear. However, the conversations between us had become Crystal clear since no longer speaking through written word. I do not remember falling asleep with tear stained cheeks but I woke feeling as though I was held tenderly the night through, and that could only mean with flesh unseen, that my Yernasia had come to ease my pain brought upon me by my mind still trying to find rhythm between Frozen time and flowing flame to my heart.

   My thoughts were cluttered and incomplete this morning as I made coffee and set looking into the trees. Their own eyes and smiles still heavy from the night's watch over myself and the earth. BooBoo was looking for his morning massage as the birds started waking so we went out to lay upon the land that's so kindly housed us, held us, and shaded us from our own shadow of thoughts. It would be a fine day they waved with their limbs and as I stretched out across the blanket of fresh dew grass I saw him there between the leaves. I liked to imagine he encouraged the sun to shine, the birds to fly, and the trees to smile just to remind me he was there, and I, as I said earlier, am never alone.

   I liked to seek his attention. Both his praises and criticises were healthy and constructive and did not feel as blows upon my ego. He sparked my mind to work in such ways that I would always appreciate the new light shown upon my growing self. Never asked to follow and always led back to my own understandings, I held high esteem for my friend, my love, my Yernasia. Masterful in his ways of teaching though he would never credit himself. He always passed it along as I chose to do the same when people tried to credit me when I did nothing but lead them back to themselves as well. I suppose I had found through my own experiences that was the strongest growth I endured. I could stand firm in my own skin when speaking of things I myself had gone through and came out again with firmer foundation of my own Muchness.

   I held myself in place from running out to watch him drive away. I thought he was retrieving something from the car, I could see his silhouette reaching for the seat belt through the darkness of the rolled up window and closed door. I looked away. I didn't wish to watch him leave as he had sneakily done many times before. When I opened my eyes I reached for Boo. There he was nestled in beside me in the bed. McClintock just about to spank his wife in front of the whole town, her in her pantaloons and him with a smile on his face. A mid-morning dream had snuck in the same as David was sneaking out, through my mind. I got up and held the fat cigar between my fingers and reached for the pen with the other hand. One to kill and one to heal. This day I found my fingers and mind working much without the integrity of the connection between the two... Me. I decided to watch the movie again and wondered would this be my own "groundhog's day" (another good movie of repetitive Love and hate, or angst) and surrendered myself to the prison of Love's self-making bed again. The birds chirped, the sun struggled to shine as did I this day, as did I.

   The car was white and new with the dark tinted windows. There was a message for me there somewhere in the dream. However, I wasn't quite sure if I was ready to see, to give up on the dream, to once again become more of my Muchness of me, I pressed play on the video player once again. crawling back in beside booze warmth always eased my soul. He was after all the bestest friend I could rely on... And even he got up sleepily and moved to the end of the bed, near the edge. I felt I too must take a leap soon from the edge, maybe after the movie today, maybe. I could not yet say. This day was still early, not nearly 9:00 a.m. and I was being lazy and felt that I deserved it. One couldn't see any "work" I was doing outwardly, oh but if one could spend a moment of their time stepping into my mind or heart they would more than understand why I always appeared tired and overworked after a long day of doing "nothing"...

   Daydream remembrances

Night of blank space

   No matter where I looked

I always saw your face

   Weather haunting or surprising

I always found delight

   Be it dreams during the day

Or the remembrances of the night...

   As fall came so did the shadows I attempted to steer away from my heart's remembrances. They just seemed easier to bruise my mind with than the tears and tears they would scatter amongst my healing heart. The days seemed long although shortened with the seasons. I suppose I was trying to hold on to the earlier months even though we mostly only fought through them against one another, we were at least "together" or so it appeared when he would appear at my door.

   It had been months now since I last saw his face and though I held out for a visit I internally knew it would be months again before I would see him again... I would see him again?... I began to ask myself and give way to the fear of never laying my eyes upon the beauty of his overthought and silent expressionless face. His eyes two different blues, one light for falling into and one dark for fighting my way back out of the pools of his ever-changing temperatures of love. My fingers were addicted to his skin and they fiend for a single touch some days. Those days I would go into the middle of the yard, wrap my arms around myself tightly and cry and speak to the angels there holding me holding myself. I asked the birds and the dragonflies to deliver messages to my David. Believing he would receive each one in his own intuitively guided way. He was gifted with the insights of the Angels, though he didn't ever mention about it to others. The dead spoke to him in their own voices and I wondered if when he thought of me and our love if that meant it too was dead for him to be able to hear it's echoes. I stopped myself from thinking this way, denying fear it's worthy space in my mind so as not to reach my heart and attempt to refreeze the bridge melting,yet ever flowing between the two. Oh the space between the two, at constant war yet loving the feel of freeze on heated flame rolling back and forth incessantly like the boat that delivers the dead to the island between heaven and hell... Still seeking one last choice from each victimless victim of death's embrace and the afterlife gift of rebirth of forevers nothingness. I began to wonder again in my mind still warmed by my heart's thought of David's skin, his smile, and his clever way of sneaking to and fro between my own internal forever or never, heaven or hell, heart or mind. He always found refuge and rest in my soul.

                           Charlie The Spider

As I ventured again my sights out The escape of The doors light I watched a single leaf fall heavily to the ground and knew it was my own autumn. I had let something that had been weighing upon my internal tree of Life go too. For an unspoken thought of Hope it was not some anchor of Love's hold but some discarded empty box no longer carrying around the nothingness of thoughts I'd occasionally allowed myself to get lost wondering through. Rifling through pages of blank half-hearted memories I had caressed many times before ending or beginning each one anew in whichever way my heart or head had decided to create once touched by my flickering fingers of flame and ice. 

    Some stuck and others burnt away day after day touch after touch with my rememberings. I decided to walk out into the yard and stare into the sun now shining through the leaves stacked overhead. Hoping the rays would burn away things from my mind I myself could not yet let escape to the unknown. I thanked the sun for its work this day and the cool playful breeze upon my dampened face for allowing me to feel all the feelings wash away and dry away without knowledge of remembrance of each one as it left my heart, my mind , my tears behind. Now smeared into my purple sundress to finish its cycle of vanishing as I stood strong in the shadow of love, of tree, and directly in the ray of my own light. 

   Coming back into the house I saw the blue tail lizard I had made a home for out of an old moss covered stump I placed by the door where he often bathed and caught bugs. The stump topped by an old stained glass and iron hanging light David had presented me with knowing my love for old things and this was definitely a beautiful piece. It brought me great joy seeing the lizard enjoying the castle I made for him and as he sat and allowed me to view all his beauty, I again felt the warmth of security and home at this little piece of my own personal Paradise given to me by Brute. I woke him every morning for work and coffee. He finally had gone out on his own and started his own company of beautifying others landscapes. He was in a hurry this morning so I couldn't ask him to now put in the porch bulb he tried to replace for me last night. We argued last evening over replacing it for Charlie the spider lived between the bulb and the door and Brute had no intention of sparing his home so I voted to go again without the light even though my fear of the dark mornings still resided inside me. Brute said it was on me to walk over in the darkness to make coffee and ensure he was up for work and I accepted my fate to save Charlie's home. When I set out in the morning however Brute had left his own light on, arguing yet ever understanding my childlike love and fight for such things as the spider. We talked a bit this morning and as I came back home I noticed Charlie was gone. I suppose he heard the argument an knew Brute had bought me a new bulb and decided his time of guarding the entrance was complete. I'd miss Charlie as I missed other creatures that came in and out of my life but I also knew he had already stayed longer than the seasons permit to keep an eye on me and once the new bulb came he stayed one more night and was packed and the next dawning of daybreak sneaking away without a goodbye. Maybe this was the message of my daydream...

   " Just be yourself" I kept hearing inside the clutter of my mind and wondered if that is what I was seeking now. How to find among my muchness, the meness of me, my own self... What did that even mean "Self" and again I allowed my mind to traverse across its own displayed timeline not following any set rule of travel. It jumped and skipped at will like a child off each thought emotion or memory that led to another. Time had no hold on my internal timeline of Self... Who or what or wherever my own Self was in each moment's breath, my Self was ever changing and growing and falling away and I encouraged each step along its ever-changing path. I permitted free range for my growing never bonsaiing any wondering Branch. I could grow wild and barren as the tumbleweed and allow the wind to carry as far as it pleased or as thick as the grass grown down by the creek full of all the minerals and drink every blade would individually need to grow lush and inviting to the barest of feet.

   I believe this sort of growth in every direction publicly on display for every peering or needing eye to see is what gave others the impression of my courageousness. Or perhaps my ability to speak so openly about love be it frozen in the pangs of time or burning hot when embers stoked. I however did not see it as courageous. I saw everything through my childlike state of heart, eyes, and love and felt the Angels delivered all peering eyes to see at their own Divine moment of fated or destined messages to be received. I felt as though my ability to share in such moments with others a privilege given by the heavens and so I treated held and nurtured each as such. A Divine miracle, much like Charlie's Web,  I was allowed to be a part of. I thanked the Angels often for this and gave gratitude daily , some days my whole day was spent giving back to the angels that often held me so tenderly.

                  The Snake and The Frog

   I suppose I should thank the frog hanging and squirming from the snake's mouth just outside my door. I wouldn't have noticed if not for the wrestling sound of its final attempts to not be this day's dinner. That reminded me again of the strike I may have received especially from a hungry snake I couldn't have seen if not for the frogs scramble in the leaves. I ran back in crying wishing I could help its escape without hurting either one. When I went back to look again he had swallowed it. The snake and I sat staring at one another I, watching the body squeezing in and out to force the frog down (it was a good size frog). I was impressed by the heaving in and out of the long stripes the length of the snake and he, watching me knowing I now had caught him at his most vulnerable moment. I stilled myself and simply asked the snake to go the other way when he was able. He raised his head and stuck his tongue out still squeezing down the frog. Once he was able to, he granted my wish and turned 180° on his own self and slithered away much faster than I thought he'd be able with such a meal still a knot in his midsection. Again I thought of the frog. How he saved me from possible bite or new roommate as I always left my door open with no screen framed in only a hanging sheer cloth that blew with the wind but did a fine job keeping the bugs out. 

   I do admire the courage of the snake, to keep his frog knowing I could have done him in at any time during the process. His choice seemed obvious and either which way his life went he was going to eat his catch. Proudly displayed knowing exactly how long it would take before he could get away. Determination and courage and then between He and I this day respect. And I liked the happenings and learned a few things my Self, and for the frog, appreciation, admiration, and respect as well. For giving it's all, to wrussle the leaves to allow me to see his strength to still worn others of the dangers and cycles of life and death he had become a part of and to remind myself of how important observation is, stillness is, and how absolutely grateful and blessed we all are every moment, every step, and every leap we ourselves take into the unknown moments of life. To share our wisdom whenever the opportunity arrives, even if at the most inopportune time for our own selves. Thank you frog. Thank you snake. And always, always, always, thank you angels.

   I was awakened by a knock on the door. It was still dark out and for a moment my heart held its beat and a quick whisper escaped it and flowed softly up the Frozen flaming bridge. I heard its wish.. "I hope it's him"... and just as quick as it came it left and I stirred to get up and open the door. It was Brute holding his phone. Something better than expected came through his lips "your daughter messaged call her back then bring my phone when you're done". I squealed with delight. For my youngest and I had been given a beautiful new gift of bonding since my granddaughter had been born. We spoke often and I believe she and the baby enjoyed it as much as I did. We chatted about nothing for a minute then she spoke of her father, his potential troubles and I heard the concern in her voice. She was never one to be told anything so I only suggested at the feelings he was unable to speak directly to her. I knew she understood and she was ready to hang up when the baby decided it was time for kisses and started kissing the phone. Babies have a way of injecting joy into any situation at just the Divine time, just as hers did in this moment, and mine did in every moment we connected. For I know I must have done something well because when I got to receive my youngest, by surprise visit or phone call, the Angels had informed me that was my sign, my joyful moment I often forgot to take myself. So, they would gift me with the beautiful Surprise of my baby.

   As the daylight lifted I remembered her asking if it was light out here yet so I went to the door to remember Charlie and see how much of his web remained when I noticed the sun seemed to pause in the heart of my warrior tree across the yard. It was the tallest of the trees outlining the yard and the top looked of a warrior proudly coming home especially when the wind blew. It looked as though he was riding his horse arm in the air waving and as I was waving back this morning I saw a rainbow string for a brief second through the wind. I stepped to the side and to my delightful surprise there was a very large web woven high between two trees. The sun shining through lit up the web like a giant dragonfly mid-air rainbow gleaming bright wings stretched across the tops of the trees. It must have been about 4 ft wide and there in the middle sat the spider proudly. I imagined it was Charlie now letting me know he had outgrown his previous home by the porch and was now guarding the whole eastern part of the yard. As I tilted my head back in great laughter I noticed rainbow strings glistening from the tops of many trees this morning and I felt as though the spiders had great wars through the night. The new moon was coming and the web soaking up as much light as possible before then to keep the yard illuminated even without the Moon and from the looks and sizes of the webs I would suppose they won the territory though I know not who they were warring against for it...

   Imagine for a moment a web with no laws to space or time

Where any creature from Love's true source could give their life for thine

   Imagine no rough roads but guided steps instead

Angels who would light the path no confusions in your head

   A place where the mind and heart beautifully bridged by one's own soul

Imagine, to reality, as you go, grow, glow ...

   My thoughts of David had slowed and my days grew shorter yet I felt stronger having released the feelings kept bottled for times review through ink stained paper now to float its own course through life and eyes of any brave enough to open and read the words that seem to magically emerge from my hands. Letting Go wasn't the hard part, I often coward myself. I found difficulties in the adjusting of letting go. Spaces once filled with memories gone over till my heart beat or bled. I longed for remembrances no more and of this I found proud moments within myself. I had found many beautiful lessons I would be forever grateful for among the aches and pains of growing, and much like the composting of the leaves under tree, I too knew something else would Bloom from its decay. Some beautiful blossom not yet imagined and interwoven on my soul's flame flowing Frozen bridge. Dripping away to water the new casings planted by my letting go, my leap of Faith, to die and bare again new growth.

   New experiences were sure to come as all choices lead to New opportunities and I had chose to let go of much I had been carrying with me in my head and my heart that no longer served the purpose of healthy growth and believe I had acquired many tools from my travels on Love's eternal flux ever flowing bridge between. I had learned to trade my outcome for hopes and wants for desires and in doing so I had clumsily stumbled upon a more supple ability for alignment within, flow... Unbroken continuity of parts... The source of my boundless perpetual Muchness. There was a newness here in The art of Letting go... The tool to be how one nurtures the still believing in such a thing, although, much like the movies I loved getting lost in so much the characters would change the plot would vary but always the heroin would find her love in herself, in another, and in her interminable framework of her own Munchness.

   I suppose in the letting go of "not" love or "old" constraints that had once bound my entirety to its own false will, I had inadvertently allowed "new" to enter into my beingness, though confusing and unknown to me it's reasons as of yet (yet meaning you're eligible too), the spaces once flooded by thoughts feelings and emotions housed by David's memories were now being filled with desires of new love, new expeditions down paths only daydreamed of before and I wondered along each one writing in my own mind's eye words I could now not quite make out clearly in the limbs of the trees. Cursive writings limb to limb spelled out half words. Some forward, some backward, and some cast as shadows on the ground and outer walls of my abode as though calling me out from the internal walls I had clung to while sitting inside my own sorrow filled teardrops. As I ventured out into the yard I had not visited in quite some time the sun shone brightly overhead. The birds were singing and flying about and there on the ground where the snake had eaten the frog was a single owl feather. The wind picked up a bit with a smooth coolness to it. As I bent to retrieve the feather I felt as though the world around me was commending me on wisdom obtained, the letting go, like the owl of his feather the frog of his life and the snake who had granted My wish during his own exposed moment in times lifeline.

   

   As I had decided to fill my days with desires I often day dreamed of Yernasia. I held high expectational hopes of one day meeting this mysterious person, this enigma of mine. Out of the blue, azure, the call had came and I, having never done so before, answered the call of the stranger. And as in all stories to be told, my life, and ever grateful for it, would never be the same.

   How does the pupil gift it's master, it's teacher, it's encasing that held the seed it imagined a million times before deciding itself to allow the force of the inevitable cracking, its own letting go, that would allow the sprout to spring forth and decide its own fate or destiny from that painfully beautiful moment on. As tears streamed lovingly down my cheeks my pen read out of ink, I looked again to the trees and saw so big and clear inside the pines "P.S." and I knew what followed were words not often said between us, however, always known, and held true, "I Love You". 

   In that moment I noticed the ink flowing gently across the pages had turned to blue, azure, one of his own descriptive words of Selfs aura and I was filled with joy unmeasurable. I had pondered days before of writing him into my life, to be so clever as to outwit this most intelligent person I had the pleasure of befriending. I daydreamed often of saving the money to one day show up like a UB40 song in "Kingston Town" and Yernasia be there waiting for me, his own Queen. I spoke about it once to him and he had laughed like he often did when conversing with me whom he had dubbed "knucklehead" and I grasped as a loving and Worthy title.

   The winds had changed, the season had changed, and I too, still holding the owl feather, had changed. I had told him early in our meeting of talk and written words that I had no intention of growing up and that I believe is when he knew he would enjoy the challenges of me and had to change, or possibly not change, his own strategy and chose to encourage me to grow in. I liked him in the way his mind worked immediately. I found great comfort in his ability to keep up with my "oh so far outside the box" way of thinking. When he spoke to me for my first ever hearing and understanding of "childlike". Informing me of its special gifts of the ability one has when able to retain this "personality trait". I imagine in only a short time he himself realized this was no "trait" of mine but my own true Self. Heart, mind, eyes, and soul. I liked this about myself. I learned of many things I liked about myself through the teachings and lessons of Yernasia. I was bold, brave, and believed in the impossible. I saw almost everything through eyes and heart of love, except for Self up until him. Opening me and encouraging me to travel every path of my own existence. Past, present, and dreams of my own desired Future Self. There were times that hurt very much reviewing the goings on and finally confronting them. Mostly of my childhood or lack thereof. Standing up for myself had always been a quality of mine. However, standing up to those I loved for myself had been something I had coward away from. Denying my own true feelings to allow the feelings of others to remain calm. It was something I had learned as a child, the youngest of three in a bold family, I always wanted to create the one thing I never saw or felt, peace, and I did so at my own expense. Although I knew not of this cost until I was older and left to face the world on my own. Charged as an adult and held to its expectations. I, even now in some situations, had not the skills required of such life and living expectations and constant scrutiny, although no supervision was ever made available. I learned to not pay heed to the judgments of others though I had not learned not to judge myself as harshly as they did. 

   I went inside with the guidance of Yernasia and others, all strangers on my path of discovering my own Muchness, For years of hermiting inside, wondering,  digging, and weeding, all in the ever growing knowing it was up to me to tend to my own internal garden. Some spots were to remain covered but known. Like potatoes or carrots, carrots only showing a bit on the surface. Other parts of my internal garden bloomed outward for all to see and some so beautifully grown to me I cared not if judged by others. Some spots still under reconstruction and healing, some still sore, only able to be seen by the eyes of others doing their own internal workings. I felt these spots were for the angels and devils within us to notice and grow or heal or sheer and let go. As most due I had saved the best for last. Covered by thorns, weeds, wildflower blossoms, and decay, was the inner most important garden of all, the heart. Fed by the soul river and winds of the minds thoughts I had let mine go unattended for long enough. The angels and devils had connected me to Yernasia. Yernasia always guided me back to me. To find my own way, my own self, and my own Muchness.

   Some things could not be ignored like a toothache a heartbreak and a choice that one would need to make. Sometimes it takes one years to even recognize a choice needed to be made and I often fell into that category. I was a stubborn one (a finner quality I believe) and needed to go through much before seeing such an obvious choice. Time and time again I had chose to love another, to give myself completely to something or someone. I had never decidedly chose myself and in doing so it caused a great riff in time. A wave felt to be very uncomfortable to myself and especially others. Others who were in no way used to me choosing my own growth, even to the cost of they and I's separation.

   However, I believed in many things gone unseen by others perspectives and chose to believe that all was of Divine order, including loss, hurt, blame, and sacrifice. I held strong faith that the coming together of some things and people would take place after different healings would occur. At times just mine. Oftentimes others as well. I couldn't, no I didn't, wish to believe in a world of my own co-creating abilities being part of something, someplace that would allow certain aspects to stay forever separate. Especially when the growing and healing were to the benefit of those now separated yet involved in the earlier cause of the effective healings being done by myself in the beginning, the first placements of healing. 

   "I cannot live within you nor you within me when war and winning is all that be"....

   As you can tell my "books" or "chapters" didn't come out as planned but neither does many aspects of my life, yet another confusing and joyous gift I am forever grateful for. I found myself in days of contemplation, tears, and much appreciative laughter after the words I had written here, in this, and also found not only my days, my thoughts and my desires had taken their own colored life's change, but so had my dreams. I didn't plan to speak of my children in this book of men who helped me along to my Muchness and such a small version this had decided to be as many men were left unspoken of and each deserved their own due respect and love from me. Also all the beautiful women, most who would I'm sure rather go unnamed, and so I give that respect as well.

   My children came sneaking into my dreams like they used to inside my room during storms at night when they were little and I felt more than compelled to end this writing this portion of my muchness the same way as it began so very long ago. Surprising, confusing, and still able to contain great amounts of love, I again awoke from a dream….

   

   I was sluggish almost statue like peering into my thoughts. I felt as I had dreamed of my eldest daughter though she took no physical form. Only vast darkness like the corners of my mind. Two large dark eyes and a voice encircling a memory of her eating steak with just her hands as this had always been her favorite way to devour the tasty meat. She would smile as a child with it dripping from her chin at the table. She spoke in an echoed voice and I wouldn't seem to hold on to anything she was saying rolling away with the grease and I, only ever lost in the dark blue of her eyes.

    She was strong-willed and wise and held a hold on me I could not describe and haunted my memories of sleep the past couple nights. I'd always admired her courage to be stubborn and find her own thoughts and ways about things and the dreams had me wondering at what the universe, vast like her eyes, had in store for my own destiny or fate. Neither her, nor my son had spoken to me in over a year. Both having their own reasons and growing lessons we all had to find our own way about I suppose. Being a very young mother when I had my son at 15 it was easier for me to understand their resistance though not the absence for so long. I found peace after the first year of silence but they still struggled and warred inside themselves. I sent cards for special holiday through the post and my youngest, who was only able to give me value through her own experiences as a young mother, would pass them on to her brother and sister. Single and bold she was in every way. 

   Bold, courageous, and stubborn. They all had to have acquired from me being as each had their own separate father.  I allowed the space for their stubbornness for I myself had found much of my own Muchness in this way I miss them but spoke to them often through dreams and visions in my own mind's eye. I commended them daily for a battle well fought for to hold a mother such as I at Bay was no simple feat and they conquered each day's war that went unspoken between us. They were all very close and in my reality this was the most important point of it all to me even if I were to be sacrificed to obtain it and help its bond to form. I was ever willing to be that for them and their own closeness and firm foundations of Self. My son had won his own battles the previous years before. He had fought through much and I was proud for it was no easy way to come up in this world and his road was scattered with potholes all along it. My dream of him walking away with his hair flowing like a lion's mane is a vision I had seen a hundred times as he won each of his own battles. And to be quite honest I'd liked that they did it and emerged on their own, even though it meant without me it also meant their own strong and courageous victory and that too was most important to me and for each of them. I knew there footing in life was a strong one. I had lost one child in my own early wars with Self and felt he was my first bridge to the heavens and hells allowing the angels and I to communicate so openly so clearly. I gave thanks to him each day for his own sacrifice to watch over us all from the earliest moments of our lives and his own. My youngest had given me a plant when I told her the story of him after she had her own child and she is who helped me ease the pain I had carried for over 20 years holding him secret in my heart. All my children were my stars my victories and my heart's beats and blows and I wouldn't change a thing in the unfolding of our lives. For life was still early and the planets moved all the time and I knew in my soul one day they would align again and we would emerge as more than related, but friends and this too was important to me.

   

   Now some may read this and find no meaning more than a short story, word brought together by unfinished loves and heartbreaks or turmoils. This is not the book for them, yet. This that has been inscribed from heart, head, and pen is my own personal journey forever unfinished just like the melting of my soul's partially frozen flaming bridge between head and heart. I hope it never melts completely, for to give up some memories Frozen in Time would again start my towers demise. These words written, at times without me, are to show nothing more than the hardest most walled prison I had put myself in although I never closed the door with no lock. To give to any who feel deeply enough to rekindle their own internal flame, the one message we all hold, but at times are too fearful to accept…

                   "we are never alone"....

   Surrounded by our own mental moving memories of movies we can direct and edit at will. How your movie, your memories, your own mental health fairs each moment's day is inevitably up to you. Your own noise warrior, or stillness of breath, depending on the details with no outcome you seek to find and free each time to watch, read, or observe when going through each reel inside yourself. Does your boatman take you to your own internal island to choose heaven or hell with each passing emotion of remembrance. The choice is after all always yours... To rewrite each time in your own way. Will you replay the same story time and visit again and again, or use your own co-creative imagination and desires to bask in your own love stories, the way you would have liked them to be. It does not matter the choice, only that you make it, for just as the paint on the walls all things are "inner" changeable. Color your life on your timelines, appreciate the ability we each carry to travel through time in our own body's memories and paint the portrait of the day in the sunrise or set, the moonlight, or dark star filled night. Change often and choose crazily for that after all is what life, living, and each our own forever growing Muchness is all about.

   "May the angels always comfort your demons and rivers of tears ever flow. 

May the embers of your heavens and hells always be stoked by the things you hold close. 

   Even when too hard to look at may you ever shine bright be it day or be it by night". 

   I am reminded of a beautiful song in this moment that has helped me in more ways than I myself can possibly explain…

 "let me go boys let me go push my boat from the highest cliff to the sea below rocks are waiting boys rocks are waiting swoop down from the sky and catch me like the birds of prey now my feet don't touch the ground now my head won't stop waiting lifetimes to be found now my feet don't touch the ground" Coldplay….

   I cannot tell of Love or loss from the people in this story of mine, for as I stated earlier life is still young and early and I hold hope for each, but I can tell you even if I never see any of them again their story, each of them, will forever grow inside of me, of you, and them. There is no ending to be had in my eternal Love's Frozen rolling flaming bridge of Soul. Only hopes wishes and desires remain. To change time and visit again as i rifle through the pages in my mind, in my heart, and shared together on my own soul bridge between the two...

   Love is a lengthy tale

Held by each it's part

   Never to have true ending

Only to share the start

   Written spoken fought

Like wars never ending cause

   Remembered in each other's breath

Heartbeats stole to pause

   The coming together and letting go

As smooth or rough as one wants

   But always coming back to

In time the ever beating hearts

                                ………...of love……….

   "The only way to achieve the impossible, is to believe it is possible" Alice-

And that... Is how I found My Muchness.