Don’t the Nights Pass Slow?

Waiting…meandering through my thoughts…

…so much to do…so many places to roam. No gentle breeze or harsh wind to remind me of any motion. No way to go…the sound of strangers sends nothing to my mind…silence on my radio.

Where can I turn?

And in the seeking…the once heard words of one in contemplation…a speaker from afar. A younger representative clad in black seeking rejuvenation that their order might not fade away. Such words, such thoughts in search of the path. And after much contemplation what did this younger find? Not so much what they need be – but what they are within themselves. Thinking not outside the box but finding “their” relevance in the messages not beyond their walls. What once they were and can still be? Not outside the box….within…within. And yet, what is it they choose from their walls…that speaks to all lives within their pages and reach?

When the Wind Blows

Old ideas and thoughts come across the horizon to be here again with me this night. What once was, has remained all along…these old friends upon my inner tide. No longer drifting but lapping at the shoreline. There was a time…one chord to the next…the platter spins, the vinyl delivers. When the wind blows…I can see them all again…friends through the years…tunes of our time…memories of other days. I find my path…I am all I need be this day and the next…In the window there’s a face you know…flow Paul flow…