My Only Work of Value

I am resistant to selling my time, my freedom and expression, as I value these so very much. I view good work, not as a job, but as something worth doing that produces a beneficial outcome. Although a job may also produce positive results, it is done for money. As I seek to maximize profit, time and objects become defined by their economic price, and conflicts of interest arise from why and what I do.

As I see it, my only work of value is in my effort to do good.

With Spirit Gift

We breath the same air and drink the same water that flows and falls unfettered from the sky, that rains across our short-lived petty boundaries. We sense that same light and warmth of sun upon our skin, from north to south, from east to west. We live with extraordinary landscapes, teaming with life and beauty, with spirit gift.

We are but once and in this moment love is all we have to give.

From Start to End

Words drift and glide above the edge of my sleep. In dream what is said is often far from clear.

As I write I place one idea in front or behind another. Language arrives as a thin line of meaning that makes its point before it stops. Language, written and said, is linear. It starts then ends. I can dip in and out of a conversation, but it cannot be heard all at once as a painting can be seen.

Language by its nature, as music, is a child of time.