FALLING IN LOVE
Love Bill
Kicking a ball, driving in a cloud,
words that fall in a certain way,
then there is the beginning.
The Chaos. The intent.
The movement over, and past..
whatever obsesses one affects how we are who of being
btw, Where's my arm? Oh, it's in the tool pile
never mind, where's the future
in the rock face is the god of the moment
the resident moment putting aside the obsessions of work
or to consume and dine or fears that make me an anti-market maven
everything saves me from everything except moderation..when I realize
did the garden grow when I so busy doing errands
where is the garden? Pick-up the camera and go look!
oh what wonder
is the moon a dot in the eye
still amazing it seems my eye
settling to earth in a moment of vision
common sense is beneath my feet, the curl of cord
the tree half alive we struggle together
a neighborhood cat suddenly left without a home
the joy on the faces of a long ago past
softly the air breaths contentment, a gentle waterfall
no splashes only a gurgle, I look up and see me
to photograph is not to live it is to float far beyond
Not to see only written variable of seeing being
far afield from my longterm home in Maine, the items
and objects of daily family life become amusing and
even beautiful, these absorb me so
Joshua Tree California
the desert beckoned me unto myself
expected expectations to find expectations were not
what I didn't expect was the rock forms of life
inter-relationships are the seas of life the rock the light
the distance these are the see of life juxtaposed saturated
wandered around each day different endless confirmations of
ideas and thought are suggested in this new territory with
the seas one revels in what one sees, purely not narrative or
news only that which undoes what before confused
obvious was no more thoughts digressing into mayhem,
the rock purpose to get me out of me, to be the shape as see
as astonishing sculpture of natural foundation shaped mood
reverting the warmth of gratitude intense concentration unfolded
a purer light within One begins to hate the transport getting out to
involve in the depth a vehicle of movement transported all inspiration
into a continuous dream magic carpet ride becomes that floating past
all the nature we seem to see is a streaming dream
a tripod for stability realization
unanswered questions seen to contemplate, for the forms of
the desert the rocks the light are only the forms from
the seas of human emotion, holding still between moments the
eternal moment, for daily harvest immense joyous contentment
discontinuous dreams lie about in the swagger of entropy,
a western town looks like a ghost town after a sea of
sand washed down from the hills, and below near Palm Springs,
a gateway of wind is dressed to capture kilowatts..
Copyright 2008 bap
Bill Anderson Productions
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