southward

I am having visions of how I am to live my purpose:

starting now, I will devote all my income to savings.

I will work as often as time allows.

to pass the off work time, I will reside in nature covered by her foliage.

nestled on a blanket wrapped in the breeze.

sung to by fowl.

I will run within the forest's halls of oak and birch.

by October ..... I will NOT renew my apt lease.

I will NOT move in with family nor supposed friend.

I will begin my pilgrimage southward on FOOT along the Eye of 35.

back pack, water bottle, guitar, journal, Bible and tent and sleeping bag.

comfort needs not to accompany me.

direction needs not to lead me.

the sad couples of "regret and hope" and "promise and fallacy" shall remain behind me.

if I estimate my funds then I lack faith in providence.

I will lack nothing other than who has left me and who mistreats me.

they shall remain.

my journey will present an open blank tablet to write more new songs of peace.

for this is for me.

to walk.

away.

to mingle with the unknowns.

who are far away.

new appreciations to incur.

the lives of others.

the tastes of middle hemisphere wine.

campouts along the oceansides.

coasts of crashing tides filled with fish untasted. yet.

conversations with the tongues I speak.

and should continue to learn.

paint my face with mud to cover the scars of blood and hate.

smile and laugh and smagrin to the clear night's stars.

smell the scents of Guatemala.

wake to El Salvador's coffee again and again and again ...

meet those with beautiful green Columbian eyes.

roll in the forests of Brazil and cure myself from the disease of scorn.

shake hands with Peruvians and Bolivians then dish out cuisine with

farmers from Argentina.

swirl the spices of Chile too and sharing music with all.

this will span till 40.

i might rest my souls in the Falkland Islands.

or bury myself underneath and between the dueling oceans.

~~~ ~~~~~ ~~ ~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~ ~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~ ~~~~~ ~~ ~~~~~

down under lies. my purpose. lies. my value. lies. my life. lies.

yet i will float and fly above within the particles of Truth.

and only then will i find rest.

and sip with the Trinity the vintage Malbec and Merlot.

WE shall smile with eye lids closed.

slow breathing and laughing.

then a contrite smagrin

hummmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm