Woke this morning in that place half here, half dreaming. For a moment had this faint sense my breathing was actually boat oars rowing me through a slowly trembling body of water. I was the boat, the oars, the water, the dream. When I breathed well, I moved along with the rhythm and pattern of the oars--jutted across the water. It was so beautiful. When I barely breathed, I stopped, floated; maybe even drifted (aimlessly). All a bit mystical, like a fog lifting over something deep.
Does this happen to you; you see something so amazing on the inner places, like you found something. Secret. Delicious. Beyond description or knowing? Half-awake, half aware in dreams
have been writing inside a book, or making a new art, or seeing amazing architecture... images. You go groggy to paper to put it down, and its all stuck. Crumbled. Daylight erases the inner life and you stand there half naked, alive. Awake.
More at TUMBLEWORD's other site. Steven Wright
Hope for a wonderful, productive, relaxing weekend to all!.