Photo by Rhand McCoy on Unsplash

Time Traveler

Recapping travels, prompts, energetic flow

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Little Joey, from tree-trunk to tree-trunk pulling on khakis, jeans, or whoever listens, seeking poppa, adult presence being near, the search continues. Always accounted for most profound memories dancing with inspirational, shadow-marked calling brightest of days, inserting dialogue with self, mydriasis’ full spectrum.

Joey is becoming ‘We,’ no longer I, self-fading blackened past looking up to the one to be, higher self, and adulthood of nth degree. More truth serum needed, not necessarily, a child as mentioned earlier to adult, we are becoming, and we ‘just are’ belonging.

Aged and worn redwood, sequoia dreaming of once planted seed, recalling the troubling springs with wildfires ablaze, would the little survive, yet here she is fully grown to the heavens and skies painted tapestry.

Nightmarish sweetest of dreams, wishing once to return whence she came, homesick yet recalling a time before time itself, before seedlings earthly kiss, aforetime floating bubble imagined already before.

This childlike dialogue, innermost conversation, Two Owls given-sight as this or that, black and white, retinoschisis not just that easy, varying shades in between — situational piece, white like ivory keys, flat black and sharpened means.

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