Though we think of ourselves as singular, we are also communal, drawing from communal consciousness. The flip-side, we are also distracted by the hustling, the strife of a working day. At night they dream...we write!~ their sleeping dreams, fantasies our dawns for inspiration, tuneful-receptors-firing-poetic-alive.
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Confronted by the awesome thought of death,
to never suffer, and be free of grief,
we wonder: What’s the use of drawing breath?
Why seek relief
from the bible’s Thief,
who ripped off Eve then offered her a leaf?
('Farewell to Faith II' by Michael R. Burch)
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Never let your good intentions get in the way of right and wrong. Otherwise, you will be desperately backtracking and redrawing lines forever.
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