Making a living is not the same thing as making a life.

Once you realize that the road is the goal, and that you are always on the road NOT to reach a goal; But to enjoy its beauty and its wisdom. Life ceases to be a task and becomes natural and simple. In itself an ecstasy.

Purposeful

compelled by a temporary notation, heard through an unseen tone
within the voice of that character, the one you wish you had known
speaking of danger in the wild
of susceptible interpretations, taken in as a child

subjectively speaking through the persistency of flesh
old age, in which acquires a now purposeful death
collapses within itself, casting down languageless-ness
to set fire to the thin thinking poets new mess

Image

© Conifur 2013

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