You have entered the realm of a writer.

Welcome to A Writer's Landscape!

You have entered the realm of my mind where words play with the fabric of our existence. This is the map of my imagination: the very foundations of inspiration, musing, and thought splayed for your wandering eyes. Dive deep into the tides of these forces and experience my reality, my fantasy, my world; and if you should be so inclined, share your words with this land.

Peace and Love!

J Hart F

Tuesday, March 8, 2011

Walking Without Looking

I drew a line today.

One stroke departed the senses of understanding from intrinsic emotions. My Feet hide the line. Baggage hides the line. The wind blows away what isn't hidden, and I wonder how far off course I've strayed.

Does the Road, evergoing, require boundaries as I walk? And I, delicately balanced on the convergence of comprehension, know not which foot leads me astray from formulated comfort. Have I been integrated to the path with foresight?

Seeing or feeling?

Will the Moon blind like the Sun if I look away from Her Light? Naivety is handsome like darkness -- I dare not find what lives beyond eyes, my chest constricts with longing lust everlasting.

A whisper from within --

Hearing tightens my grip to the past and flames shoot to my cheeks. Molten drops seer as minds fight for the ground. Fireflies twinkle like Her companions on Earth. My soul wants to dance with their freedom.

Past heaps on soles

Twilight Dawn filters. Fresh consciousness forgets the line, holding cautiously to knowledge, the poison, and my feet take heaving strides gasping for dreams. My heart yearns. My heart thrashes. Breath is clawing to be.

Knowing which fears

Leave that math behind

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