As an eagle cries to skies no judge judges there.. invisible friends with a child build castles to share.. noble bull elk looks to mate bellows in the green.. sometimes in rehearsal..
I speak with friends unseen.. Crazy? no.. Lazy? maybe.. joined the human race.. in my head friends lead are led as I speak with my face..
strangers who know me for years eyeball then attack.. me in my meditation..
assume and not come back..
piles of files conscious bound from recordings past.. decorated, packaged gated for the show at last.. I had a mental screening.. sometimes played with sound.. good to grow into the show..
when friends are around..
silent sound.. because not heard in the forest deep.. when I speak to old friends my memory keeps.. some folks build a ‘quiet in forest picnic ground’.. laughter glistens as they listen..
wonder at the sound..
When someone speaks to me.. I attend it well.. some words canned but never planned not to repeat or tell.. of moments with friends.. who stand in my scene.. who traveled with me since a child..
always know what I mean..
Some days find very old friends who I have not seen for years.. reminding me of something important.. Peace Tony