its gold.

what a grand adventure.  what giant leaps toward wisdom. what a joy to share my life with you. deja-vu (wink).

I am speeding by a field of white flowers. the sky is littered with monarchs. wheels rolling with the still beating echo of a fearless little bird i call (courage).  when one boards the train to nowhere, one cannot help but let the imagination drift. am I the baby bird? maybe we? Lets' see!

"let-go!" it sings. casually tossing it off the tongue.  unaware of the reverberations sent down to the soul. just as color spills onto the floor. all eyes wild within the everything change.

the baby bird does not hesitate to jump. it is caught cautious by time. a curious concept conceived within the whirl. "the whirl" yes. the gap between what was(the known) and what is(the unknown).

there are two tracks running in parallel.  one leads into the careful hands of (protection).  whilst the other. death, lurks under the guise of 37 flowers. counting off patience 20, 19, 17 waits... until...??? how many more?

who knows? 
I wonder.

as the baby bird flutters toward the sky. his minute life has already livedmuch within the timelessness of the pristine adventure. the little heart ingrained within another; larger, scarred, matured pulmonary pumper. the undecided life changing trajectories of other lives, eating at instinct,  loving every instant. love answering courage,  via trust, flying high above, the enigma of the horizon.

as protection wanders. the little heart is undecided. it has learned much now, from what was. it sits above watching what is. find. form from formlessness. it understands choice. sees with its own eyes the journey through death, into life. yet something new has entered the equation. what is this hesitation? what is the magnetism drawing me toward death?

all is silent. only the beat of his own heart now to keep company. face to face with the train, the tracks, and the adventure which will lead him either back to the pain of the known. or the jubilation of the unknown.