Don't
know why but exiting the pool from water aerobics today
magical
things have happened there before
I
asked myself, 'Could it be that it is my fear of failure with women
that holds me back?'
and
then
and
then
this
and that happened
in
the ordinary of this day
Sidereal
time extraordinary, what we in the newspaper biz called; “It flew
in over the transom!” Inspiration or collaboratively respired, I
respond with potential implications.
Opportunities
similar to my being swept down a roaring rain swollen creek, my
friends laughing while my head pounded rocks, until, floundering, I
found a eddy of peace and emerged unscathed but otherwise terrified.
Sincerely.
I have no excuse for being alive, so many times I've been near death
and survived.
Dr.
Ballard, the discoverer of The Titanic ship wreck, talked about
sidereal arrayed sonar and I knew exactly what it implied being a
lover of light, which like sound can reveal objects otherwise
invisible. He seemed surprised, while I was delighted with his
talking car, from the back seat being the dummy; just a photographer
with a reporter doing a assignment.
If
you think me foolish for my inspirations, random associations and
dyslexic understandings of things fixed and immutable. You should
also know I wonder more often than I confess: just exactly why do I
do anything; much less write.
The
above clipping is from Parabola Magazine celebrating their 150th
issue. From the image and by the words: it dawned upon me that I too
was lost, now found. Cliche, I know, but, Amazing Grace!
To
love, and be loved has consequence--astonishing . . . an unfolding
that seems endless. Blossoming. As indicated elsewhere, by me,
epiphanies continue. The problem being, to integrate them into some
communicable form. Not for fame, acclaim or being a legend in one's
own mind but to share, give away freely. For the process of renewal,
being filled once empty, is continual.
Conspiratorial?!
I
will labor to be more cogent and prescient. While inappropriately
revelatory of my experience; current and historic. I sense it worth
the potential of saving one life from desperation.
Tossing
acorns, broadcast, across the WWW, growing a few oaks here and there,
under which I'll never know the shade.
130429
17:18 MDT good lord willing and the creek don't rise
©
2013 by Jack Spratt – All Rights Reserved
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