This day is ripe with rebirth, prone on its haunches, ready to bring on the Truth as it speaks... What am I sensing if not betrayal? Might I be sensing the plot within my own fingers? Might it be all a story to the never-end? Heaven is eternal and we've repeated now too many tries without knowing anything more than we did when we began to step off the pathway toward God, Love, Forgiveness, Peace and Laughter. Let me return to equilibrium with who, what and where I truly am. Balance is sought in all of us, according to who we were born to be. See? You have no jurisdiction over belief anymore than I do. Belief, when married to your reality, becomes truth within the belief, yet not necessarily the truth within the reality. The wind reminds me of Home as it passes by, the birdsong is underscoring the traffic when I believe it must and should be the other way. Human traffic, noise, isn't a lone gunman. Noise is the army marching on our fledgling creation. (Can We have a redo?...
(The Weaver's Song)