Seven dates with breath 6th * 11/28/13

sixth date

I breathe. I breathe. I breathe, and breathe

and breathe and breathe some more . . .

One of these days “Gusto Trust”

will be my thought-form coach.

Gusto will say things like;

“we are in the now, by how we think.

Any what will do,”

or “life is our dictionary, constantly rewriting itself

by our style of attended animation,”

or “the senses are our emissaries and storytellers

in service to those of us who use beliefs

as their market place”

or “only we, as a species, intend the weave

of time as our obligation”

or this, Gusto might say “trust greets experience

with spacious frames

around the distant silhouettes of expectation.”                                                       

Wow, what are these remarks to me(?),

but to wash away where meaning was once afloat.

This is as the way of stone,

sinking through my liquid memory.

My nervous system slipstreams with the wash, 

enough for me to say,

“what draws me, eventually finds me” . . .