The Knowledge of the Bay

They call me by that old phrase - my brother he calls me a rolling stone….when it is I guess that its noticeable how I grow restless ---  when it was, that I was soaring back and forth the same half the country on airplanes and….. and, well - so many unfinished sentences. 

And now I've purged all the dirty past from myself (again) to the point of existing clean. My lungs, my liver, my conscious,  my weary raveling magical stars twinkling inside…..breathing so quietly, walking slowly to the low water's edge in order to soak up the pure knowledge of the green Bay waters. 
To swim, and stare at the sparkling waves, 
and have nothing but that for a summer. 
My illness squeezing the screaming head off the temptation for any wandering path of former vices.  

Coming back home to the very origin of where first every feeling of peace became. 

A few nights ago I found myself as one sixth of a round dinner table - on a square wooden porch - with a single glass of cold white wine easing my throat -- as the summer bugs called out and the steam rose about us from the grass below. And I sat back and smiled, peering over the steaming pot of chocolate fondue….and felt so good. Oh, how funny - this 5th? existence of a place, and a time. 

The secret desirous pleasure of moving states. 

What's my point tonight? Oh hell there's just open waters in my mind these days without direction. As the body rebirths into a new phase of healthy --- and I feel the first tickles of unsettling, wonderful magnitude of possibility -- of a great adventure lying just ahead. 

But calm the beating thunder for just a little longer. Keep it at peace.  

Rest now before you accelerate. {}

Ohh…. because it can accelerate in a way that no momentary make believers could ever imagine. When it heats, and curls and rolls (like the incense)….the rolling rushes of it…. the majesty of an ocean in the depth of nights by the full moon. 

And somewhere far off -- the celestials, they're sparkling so fine - they'll align - and no once notices. 

But I'll look up to the stars visible suddenly, and fill my face with mischief. 

Hearty and goodness kind of mischief.
It's entirely different, I knew just a glimpse of it once. 

{ love }