I leave behind a trail of writings
like a skunk leaves scent,
like a mouse leaves droppings.
I breathe in heaven's blessings and exhale words.
In cyberspace they form and stand alone.
Black scratchings floating in infinite whiteout sea.
Brief formings in the fog.
I reach as high as I can, claw the bark of the tree.
That tree standing there. In the middle of the garden.
I wander away, satisfied. Scratched that itch
with all the alphabet I could find.
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that's a beautiful unfolding, george
ReplyDeletestreatching up the tree...
i leave behind images
each painting, mud sculpture, or magic box
speaking different words to each viewer
i've a message to convey
but one's understanding is unique to one's individual experiences
i'm fastinated by the variety of interpretations
my ink blots revealing some hidden contents from each participant
how wonderfully mysterious and magical
all our differences... all our similarities
:)~apl
yes indeed my apl friend - one scratches one's marks & a veritable plethora of intepretations and comments are made - sometimes i say: say what? - i too love the wonder of it all - i like the additions you have made and continue making to our neigborhood - you bring playfulness and magic
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