Strange!(?) I see things when my eyes are closed I hear voices when I'm not listening I say things when my lips are sealed I go places when I'm sitting alone I think of many things when I'm not thinking I do things when I'm doing nothing n.m.
tracing stories where stories begin? not at birth, not at the discovery of your path carved for you carved by you beginnings go far far back as time when light was called forth from darkness and land surfaced on the waters, becoming everything else the world conceived and formed in a week plus rest and the telling of the Big Bang billions of years back stories and (hi)story the genesis of our world, our story set characters make entrances and exits playing roles, neglecting parts your entrance brings you here (and our entrances converge at this time) to play, to create, to be - before you exit the beginning of your story like the beginning of your grandparent's, back back back to their forbears' forbears the beginning of your story! ...
A PRELUDE In brewing with words begins this journey Of refining thoughts harvested from fields Of play and labor - from seasons of seasons - Our sweet company hold to bloom l ike A living flower of rainy and harmattan days. See with my eyes, and listen, sense it all: My pieces in your pieces - all of me with all of you, Taste the juice, smell the smoke and flavor - Sour or sweet brew's but the brewer's art. Curse not the course, bless not the bold But behold beyond and beyond behold the Veiling, venting and vexing and vimming through this voyage! n.m.
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