Scream Trees, exhort the lives who wander silently

The icy trees breathe from without. The machinations of suspiring bode well for botanical survival as its vitality is sky assessed, sun alighted. They, the sky & light, are living existential organs working with one and against themselves. Like consciousness, but the heart is an ocean, and the sky - a fountain of electrical suggestion - a mind of enviable reasons to know air. The trees are evidently lived from traduced animation of earth mantram exterior.************** I keep thinking, "I need to call that guy." That guy happens to be just me, when asleep, and anticipating, I assume, self-reflection, like I know somebody there. For half my life I never imagined giving-up, even for the temporal long-ends of the day, the ahhs of not having to face down the world & having sleep there so opportune. And now I do.************** I furrowed the earth, to impress you. My sorta change is filled-in with you. I am everything from the geometry of then, to now its circular ruins.**************** Bourdain, particularly, refines eating w/a less than intra-mantra enslaved slaver narrative, bite-bite-bite, has turned more than the success of anecdotal Jewish preachment into taste fulfillment, that of swine. Yes--and I've avoided these foods (and not others) until now for many years... Here while reading the most brilliant history on this wisdom-tradition, one that I've registered across tendril threads from an interest developing 10s of yrs, Cairene Geniza documents, study on Mitzrahi & Seferdic Jews. From these I once colored most my thought-world if to adjure memorialized space yielding to Judeo-arabic, decisor elements from either community. On Jews & Islamdom while sorting out persons X & Y, the ability to imagine and rather "reimagine" common family, and whose ancestor is closest to rooted-ness, is all the better in concensus, =the miles one would walk in his neighbor's shoes. In whose egoity the purveyor of ancestry over its meritable transmission while thru a lens of blind finishes to cultural rivulets find the other contemporarily just-like-you. Reza Shah, a Palestinian I visited with on Jerusalem margins, makes sugar the taboo screaming indulgence, then once upon time in my green 20s, being served highly sweetened black tea w/mint, sitting at his compound in certain universal passporte affection.******************** I always want to see the survivor in her eyes, the reach in my brother's. If there is no gladness there, I suspect by the next moment, the victory is over evanescence... If immanent like the dreamer tarries, whiling away dreaming the mundane, hope is eudaemonic path to the present.************** An icicle is praxis in winter--sword of emotion's memorial--a solemn, careless, merry-go-'round within itself, it glistens to every furtive detail, the fascinans too cool in irony of what is featured in sleep.**************** Oh, thou americana them asses abideth in "narcissism with respect to minor differences" (Freud kinda says), come enjoin the patterns of these-lives existential without your empyrean upset boundaries. The moral landscape is a history to one, the memory of your world, the pain you examine and experiment with to bang the mind against an absolute, verily your mission. Is it obvious that the next moment is our sate of raw or totally developed emotion? This velocity to be present is impressive, full-up, ever-yielding. What then is a moral landscape discerned over the still waters of time & her heavy veil? Or another way to put it: The moral landscape sometimes is discriminating time over still waters, while her heavy veil parts outside of impermanence.*************** Interesting fruits of my travels, out West, jus' different rhythms, to be predictive & inexact, dread times, surfacing without it. Mixing up dreamtime with realism, not of this-world actionable confused, but vibe of loading the existential, tastes of barely ironic mind to emplace senses w/the hearth of resonant chronos. If formulaic, circadian awareness reflect realities replacing senses to be too current, hardly subtle, but new into the arising dynamic. When first addressing terrible wrecked stela-writ-being in this mind, I am taking capsuls of Navane, Thiothixene, say 20 yrs ago. While appositely what shades-in all the approach of mind's looking glass tremoring on occasion from this drug, create margins on the existential factotum, me, my dog, become unbodied past the ceilings and its provincial day beneath. I'm other, I swear I thought I am only. Dream artefact restoring realism of waking impressions that langor & subtlety are convenient.**************** Felt it a responsa coming correct on academician writ thru school of life: my friend goes to the bookstore today, necessarily enticed, prolly burning for identities to go-down. Oh books, right, the langue de riguer in the splay of imminent vulture ploy over culture, sometimes cannabalist, but always the details w/ready embers on change. Free space like John boy awing into the moment just past the easy at-home narrative, to the source reflection hidden in loamy clouds of authoring media, signature to the cusp world in the guise of 20th century transforming skies of certainty. When we were born, language is in the fate of chronometry & geography.************** A spiritual clown maybe, this passion play traveler in other, and tears of unwhetted Dao's gong-ambulate slacker, I'm adjudged in shadows, moon-soaked, submitting in stillness. Texan neighborhood rds, Austin is my travelogue 'pon diminutional map ...kept me haunting enough hill & country & creek environs I'm rather surprised at 5-6 yrs old I did what I did. Descending from my house on suburban contouring geometry, passing Mr Hall, the clock-maker's bit of tree sprawl & residence, to the ant tree is extremophile eudaemonic, a sense nerve rhyming song of time, emotional nomenclature, place of power. Once I imagined the lost little ant of fortuity is just-there going to emerge brandishing parcellated conscious ward of how I'll ever be mindful of this rally in blindness as homo ludens. Each breath is animicule gesture, somewhere likely in this field episteme bottles lie gladly emptied by the carpenters of the neighborhood origins-- --its glass 'flect in an eternal scream of the season's solar disc. The futile icing on the odyssey cake is served, there's a forest of life underfoot, and it's only life exquisite dust-plain pictures of well-being rousing in blue youthful identity.***************** This tree stands admirably with no conceit an identity is reflected in self-being. Cold, arced but silently animated, nigh & void, pillaresque after the ply of its grown accoulades, creative but only sun and shade creaturely. ...done-for for the winter, but unlocks the sky by its eternal thing reduced in the reach of its still-light, deflated orange star dormancy. Sleepier & wavelike in convivencia, I carve the shape of mind to resemble its architecture.************** Many an afternoon, just to express this life full-up and awed... Sitting, waiting, but weary over the never elastic, "what am I doing here?" What it is that makes weathery change barely a wink from the ground of awareness is the canticle of mundane sounds arriving so that bird-song illuminates a mind guffaw of I'm present in the moment. My inner-eye is vain like the burning ember having been tasted errantly by Moshe. Lawgiving even toward concretion of antiquity minds is still fascinans laid out so that its margins are pierced, and ethos spills the ambrosia of ill-contained exile.**************** Rain layers in layers, a mirage on my windshield--looking out to still rather redolent pines. Beatles with a bhanging sitar alight in my mix monarchical & stupidly produced. Saturday ams were as musically revived, this weekday lines up like the sabbath of many bottles throng space, existential water purported content.***************** It just makes sense that environment is prone for sentient life delivering theirselves into evermore reason to evolve if to complement what not only shapes perspective. If desire and ignorance in earth denizenship is to top unique and enviable perspective, perspective redounds in relationship to fuel a transmundane neo-perspective.**************** In a decade of change & transmundane thoughts, I sat not far from here as my brother's kids would swim & cavort at this, currently closed, Southland pool. Imagining the dreaming envisage of choking sand, exceptions to my avenue of study, social living, breaking the languid schedule then, is elliptical and blindingly hot. Sinaitic, in fact, certain mention of langue d'origine, Jah discovered in The Alphabet vs the Goddess. I think of complimenting her still. Not why the flowery climate of her Unknowable, but it is Who summoning trishagion (kedushah) good to imagine her essense as a certain lamp of beauty. Through all the malaise of tesselated mind, where I hid, I only found her spirit having accomplished this awe.