The slush is more than the ice before

With the hustle and a bustle and the wind and the rustle it's a wonder we get anything done at all. Progress, measured in decades worn stale, like pleather recliner in the smokers home; now forgotten but still being used. If you believe I'm grasping for straws and speaking in metaphors then welcome. In is this age of donning eight billion thoughts per minute into the pipeline of conscious streaming humanity, we welcome all who play. Though the conformists have defined their edges and imposed so clearly to see, yet the illusion is looking through them; wrapping oneself in them. Till you and the edge are no longer discernible. In this way we see beyond.

Maybe this is all a dream, but I imagined I was talking to dragons on the edge of a hill. They were curious on prey in the land of the setting sun. Billy and I were more interested in the surf and thusly ignored them. Neither Billy nor I had any instruments fit for entertainment of this company and we both could tell from their veiled smirks, they were up to no good.

Though, who am I to judge good, no? Or rather, know! I know, I know. I know, I know what good is. As good is felt and good feels right. Right through feeling not through calculation. Though, under this logic those Dragons feel right I suppose, but I argue that their's is an immersion into the feeling of wrong is right. They know still are aware of the opposing feeling of rightness, to them no longer good. Moralism. Though, that word seems stunted in its aspiration to apply to definition of knowing the difference between right and wrong. It implies learnt knowledge. I suppose, most directly, I am saying that we humans, and possibly all mammals feel right from wrong; innate. From all walks of life, in mammalia. Possibly even the shrew with it's social habitats and life driven what seems like entirely biological needs, and incapable of higher thought, possibly it is dreaming and when it wakes feels that it is part of something greater than itself. Alas, we will never know, as we are not the shrew and through no power can you divine your cognition so.

I digress, as this was not Billy and mine's train of thought this day. No we were questing for more simple delights of the senses; ocean waves and boards. So we wandered down the path with barefoot gaze and parched spirits. The elements of breathing were fledgling and I was boy in mind but a man in form. The kind that bring forth this sense:

Dark sky water winter cold
Waves high clean break on my travelled soul
Where did this distant swell come from?
So clean your lines
Like peeling back the fabric of space-time

The flow
Rise up, take form
From angles curved you were born
Build here now your smooth slope steepness
That gradual ascent from heartfelt deepness
Own this shore for this moment in time
Let me work here now to find

That spot
Paddle long to get out past the lot
That cold frothy white water wash
Takes all my effort and focus not to get lost
To pass through the mess
And find that place
I saw from shore

Out beyond the point
You break like lion roars
Just watch now as slight offshore lures
And blows
Watch you move like slo-mo show
And groove
Feel the bottom I hear your tune

This is the spot we ride together
Balanced like an eagle feather
Staring at the moon
Watch ten thousand sunrises
Cradled like a spoon

Infinity’s door step
On the edge of this barrelled break
Now deep inside I feel your wake
I see the shore I once stood on then
Distant now like I knew it when
Thunder boomed in a wet hungry jungle
My hearts awake come sleep lets rumble

-----------------

Then all was quiet for just one moment. Me in my chest. Heart bounding. Another quest fulfilled.

It is only now that I recount the effortlessness with which two decades can be inhaled and exhaled. Though, whence, is not referring to time rather place, and so to am I, like all, bound to the details that shatter effortlessness and reveal the quiet sparkling details that flicker like quartz in sand on a beach under full moon bioluminescent wave wash. Rare? Not at all. Open your eyes. It is happening all the time. And if you have no eyes then you already know what it is being said here, as it has been said before; King Carl Gato's decree, the light is for everyone all the time.