Rising from the mist of memory are the recollections of those I have seen and known in both battle and the times in-between. With me still feeling the stings of some undone wars that still rage like a fire out of control. Making me feeling a bit unsteady and wanting to hold on, even after leaving that place that never felt like home to the one that did. And still there are those who through either ignorance or their idea(s) of well-meaning continue to send reminders of those echoes of the past which I walked away from with clear conscience back in October ’09. After fulfilling a promise, I made and was released from then.

And seems this place is full of rumours and though you try to stay above them they reach out and pull you in. Just being another day here and labeled at times as being like a loose cannon on deck, but that’s the way that they play and they don’t see that there doesn’t need to be anything like this and the constant gossip and innuendo they all seem to thrive on here. Something that would be taken outside under those smoke filled skies, from the fires that burn on winter nights in Juarez.

Lots don’t know about sacrifice, and still after making my way with nothing I can recall those times when I stood and took it all blow by blow, and play by play. And hardly any have gone to war to overcome the odds stacked against them, or stood up when called out. It’s said that you only live twice; once when you are born and the other when you look death in the face. Which I have done and at times tried to put my house in order, and still I carry that old fire inside. Holding on to my faith and beliefs as well as hope because sometimes just holding onto one isn’t enough. When everything is under attack I ask what do they know about heart and the ability to rise up?

With there being times when it felt as if I was born in a thunderstorm, and managed to survive and deal with all thrown at me. And dealt with the demons when they came, with some of them now saying rosaries, when those angels who once watched over me defeated them. Taking solace in the depths of my mind, and to the dismay of many I’m still breathing. And it gets tiring listening to all the rumours, gossip, and innuendo. Or the stories of all of those saying they will take a stand and then when the time to be called out arrives they back down.

And they wonder why I continue to make my way on down the line heading to wherever the Tao directs me and at times under it’s direction is like receiving dancing lessons from God. They don’t understand I have had the moments on centre stage and will do so again if called out and shoot those bullets of fire. And passing all looking out their windows as I pass by cool, collected, yet savage when it’s needed to call things like they are and voice what needs to be heard. To be there with my reasons for it all come the day, and feel the steel in my voice with so much more that needs to be said, and going in for the kill.

Those who know me and the code I have know I will be there when they call and it seems as if the hammer and the shadows are about to fall. As I recall what a fortune teller once said about being free never took into account that illusion spins and casts it’s net, just like liberty quietly laughs and pirouettes when I think I am free. Just needing to remember that history is like gravity and with the accumulated collateral damage it all holds things down. And recall being called a gin sop, and some kind of a wandering ghost; but, then what cares I for their words of praise?

So if I am needed I will hear the call though I might be out here on some railroad tracks, back road, or making my way down old Highway 51, or 61. Heading on down the line and going where the Tao directs me to go. And asking those I pass not to get up as I am only passing through and I might have a few demons on my trail. I might be standing on the gallows with my head in the noose, or at the station waiting on the last midnight train. For people are crazy and times are strange, with the next sixty seconds being like an eternity, and I ain’t eager to make any mistakes here under these sapphire tinted skies.

Copyright: Timberwolf International LTD. September 2016 – 44