The hour is quiet and full of potential here just after nightfall, and I can hear what can be called a symphony of keepers out in the distance. Feeling the wind picking up, and feeling cold as if it is a harbinger of the coming winter with a taste of snow it. Seeing the strange skies as I stand here on the road in what might be called a moonlight mile with silence flowing like the airways on a radio. And taking one more moment and dealing with the blues and climbing a hillside to see what I can see, and though I might have dreams I will never see, I won’t let them get the best of me.

The past is gone and still there are dues that need to be paid, and they say you need to learn to lose in order to learn how to win. And I have heard words of advice given to me by both fools and sages, making me think they are just dreaming on and hoping all will one day come true. Maybe it just affects my mood and feeling a touch of darkness coming on, as some of the shadows begin to fall and thinking of all those words of doom and gloom, that have been told to me by that self-proclaimed corpse evangelist. Which is why I pay them no heed even if I once had angels watching over me once, so I’ll just walk on and pick ‘em up and put ‘em down.

They may have already dug my grave and prepared the requiem to be said but I ain’t going to turn my back to the bull just to please them and give them the chance to carry out their plan, and I know I will probably be Hell bound. Though things seem so far away and might seem at times like I might be stepping in the path of a runaway train. But then again chances need to be taken and who dares wins in most things. Moments might pass me by and still I don’t turn away from those things that matter, and they seem to think it’s a shame that I keep on heading down the line. But, then again they don’t seem to realise that life is more than who and what we are, and re-runs seem to be their version of history.

The past is never far like a tired song that just keeps on being played on the radio, with the bottom not being really that far to fall to. Along with some of the dreams you thought would never be lost are now like those letters written that were never sent and thrown away. But then again that’s life and life only, and still trying to do the best with what’s left, and carry my choices and hide my regrets. Yesterday has gone like a raindrop in the sea, and old habits die hard with appearances changing but, not changing who we are.

One more shot sometimes seems to be all I’ve got, to make my play and still I continue on making my way down the line where the Tao directs, and doing it all day by day and play by play. And been told by one that if I have a friend on whom I can rely on and having chosen to live and not to die then I am a lucky man. For scholars, preachers, and poets sometimes don’t know it and fakers and talkers won’t say any of the such. And still I have the scars that the sun’s dark light wouldn’t or couldn’t heal and behind every beautiful thing there is always some kind of pain, and sometimes it feels like it’s not dark yet but feels like it’s getting there. With there being times when my burden and collateral damage seems to be a little too much to bear, and looks like I’m moving but I am really standing still.

So now heading west as the Tao directs, and feeling alive as I head towards that black range, with those few friends on my mind that have lasted and been with me through the years.

Copyright: Timberwolf International LTD. July 2016 – 38