As the ancients… I want to shift shapes… How can one experience all if one can’t yield to being all.. And not just of the mind.. But in manifestation of function…

So liquid lava can cleanse my bones.. I can create a new body.. And while I’m down there learn the wisdoms middle earth has to offer…

Yet what construct can maneuver through such extremes with grace and elegance.. Absorbing the lava as though it were a child to be nurtured…

Violence.. Fire.. And brimstone.. All but a function of causes and effects.. A necessity to reconcile polar opposites.. 

You the opposite of I.. And I the opposite of you.. Where do the miracles come from if the words don’t exist..the thoughts can’t form.. These words are too restrictive the sounds are bastardized.. They can never unwrap my mind… My internal dialogue is but a slave master with the key(s) to peace’s solitude..

The gateway to middle earth.. The way to mama’s bosom..

A blockade..

Yes a blockade within my mind has held back the Waters…how can I seek truth when my own thoughts condemn me to ironies and poetic injustices..

I feel the dragon.. I sense the dragon… But I no longer know the dragon but I do remember a time when…

There was a time when..

But sometimes I wish it were again…