a patch of light from the setting sun was hitting a koa tree. i looked down a moment and when i returned it was gone. perhaps i'll tell you about a fleeting moment in a fleeting life. but who has time for such meditations? we're all going to lose that patch of light at some point, no sense pushing your little head around, brooding about it. do you ask yourself everyday if you're happy? i suppose if you're asking then you probably aren't-just double checking while i was doubting the rightness of this day-you're not fooling anyone. and my eyes lift further up where the sky is blue and the clouds are lit up from behind and flare out like a muddy pear. another day coming to a close. how many i've catalogued and how many more i have to go?
writing, it seems, is my life and oddly, i feel i'm blindfolded in this life, swinging wildly with metaphors and rambling prose, hoping that one day i will strike the target, get it right and candy will rain from above.
i get lost in skies like these. i haven't watched the clouds in a while. the sky is perfect. this is a painters sky.
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