and flew

into the garden,

then fell

into the up-tipped face

of a white flower…

— in Why I Wake Early by Mary Oliver

I don’t know,

how many years ago,

it was now,

because linear time,

has simply become,

one never ending,

question mark,

but I started,

to have these dreams,

where I was,

in the presence,

of a woman,

and from her,

I learned,

about the look,

of love…

And whatever,

she’s told me,

to do,

I did,

and the path,

has been,

a mazing…

When waking,

from these dreams,

I’d search,

and wonder,

IS THAT YOU???

and it took until,

NOW,

to realize,

that this woman,

is none other,

than MY SELF…

And thank god,

for that discovery,

because now,

I know,

I no longer,

have to go,

anywhere,

to find,

what I’ve been,

looking for…

The other day,

Starshine,

and I,

were headed north,

on Victoria Drive,

as we listened,

to the B-Mac and Taylor show,

and we remarked,

on our own conversation,

about the potential,

for the first,

second,

third,

and fourth lines,

of a team,

to develop,

a license,

to penalty kill…

We were astounded,

by the fact,

that we were speaking,

of things,

we’d never ever,

considered,

before,

with clarity,

and a confidence,

that has crept,

slowly,

from out,

of nowhere,

and there ain’t,

no stopping us,

now…

Training thoroughbreds,

from a distance,

is something,

I never saw,

for myself,

but when you’ve had,

a passed life,

as an oyster,

you never forget,

how to make pearls,

and when you remember,

what you already know,

from previous experience,

it’s just a matter,

of being,

in the right place,

at the right time,

before it all,

comes back to you,

BETTER than,

EVER…

When I picked up,

my car,

with its new,

timing belt,

and wiper blades,

on NEW YEAR’s eve,

my mechanic told me,

point blank,

You’re good to go…

I wondered where,

seeing as,

last time,

he said,

You have enough,

brake pad,

to get to California…

In-between,

karate chops,

to demonstrate,

the power,

of his chi,

he illuminated,

You’re equipped,

to at least,

50 below…

And in that sleight,

of hand,

I heard,

the cheers,

of a triple crown,

and saw,

the sparkle,

of pink diamonds,

in the back stretch…

The jungle is your head... (photo: Starshine)