The Years of Passing
The years of Passing
are a Conversation between my Whisper & Your Silence
Can you Hear me Now, dancing this silent Dance, in between the shadows of Things Gone and things Yet to Come?
This Silent Dance that we both know.
in our Cellular Metabolism. Our DNA. Our Chronic Gelatinous Lovely Cytoplasm. The Dance that Breathes. Air. Sweet Soul. Softness. Light.
Completion.
Seasons Change their clothes like tired Strippers in a Dance Club of Laughing Gods.
And the leaves fall to the eloquent jazz of Wind & Fire.
Mothers say goodbye to children who say goodbye to mothers and fly with all their colors into the Deep.
The years of Passing
are a Conversation between my Whisper & Your Silence. It’s a prayer we keep; a lesson, a promise… to one day be Born Again.
The Christmas of One
Christmas:
Solitude vs Ceremony.
And you wonder,
somewhere in the
cracks of uncertainty:
who is “Christ” in all this …
if this really, indeed celebrates
the birth of an enigmatic teacher,
then, where-oh-where
is Teacher and Teachings
in this recipe?