love the moment

my father grew up from red chert clay a soil only hardened by the light of day monochromatic almost overwhelming to the unfamiliar cotton, a little soybeans anything green held hostage forced to fight its way out he was the youngest the runt he always told me skinny, big ears his mother worried he dreamed of easier fields and believed my mother to be a fair maiden whose rocky soil dreams could heal like poor renditions of Bonnie and Clyde they made a run for it though similar their fate involved no ambush they ran away arrived only to find their own dreams divergent monochromatic insufficient I'm nothing like them I hear myself say but, unfortunately less a statement more a question dg 3/30/12 Sent from my iPad

The sun is shining The forecast implies Warm & bright A spring day Projectedly beautiful Even to those who Gesture and swear in Traffic The insistent greens Ever present Consistently ignore Conference calls The Illinois Primary Unruly lives Inconvenient Truth I decide Open windows Are good dg 3/20/11 Sent from my iPad

and i'm sitting here thinking and even more so feeling and at the same time marveling at the wonder and depth and mystery the almost inexplicable fragility of this momentary clarity that has graced me like a sprite or a forest nymph that appeared in the mist and obscurity of everyday the incessant stream of light and noise and birth and death that is this thing this messy mess the crazy sanity that has evolved into that possibly remains as a simple result from the loss the deconstruction the decision to choose rather than be chosen by others with whom i remarkably disagree and that most unlikely interim end is the now that is and the now i relish and the now in which i revel more intentional and more radically unexpected if only you knew as i do the dragons that stood that flew that breathed fire unspeakably hot down my neck and at other times in my very bones a fire so hot i often feared i would die before it cooled and again i remember my point how damned un...