the moment when you stop shooting to reload the gun?
the moment when your mind rests from running?
the moment inbetween the heart beats?
the moment when the music sets in to blow away the dust of now?
there is no dust in the now, there is no dust in the now.
the dust, my friend, is blowing in the wind.
when it isn't struggle, is it oblivion?
when it isn't a fight, is it paradise?
when you are not fit, are you to blame?
are you sinking like an old wreck?
are you in shape, floating with the wind?
are you stirring into a direction?
will you ever arrive?
is it peace, when you arrive?
some people say that there is a life after death. as a child I knew that was right. as I grow older in earthly years I realize that there are some reasons why my grandfather rather believes that there isn't.
worms, the ultimate idea of peace. ceasing to be. the budhistic strive for no more lives on earth. heaven. not hell. war and peace, north and south pole, east and west, man and woman, to live and to rest.
I don't know where I go but I know I am walking. I don't know what to sing but I am breathing. Beats to unknown songs. Words to unknown melodies, stories to untold children.
Untold stories to children. You. Are. All. Children. When you are at peace.!?
The bird you hear singing when reloading the gun. the click a mere rhythmic contribution.
The breathing that you feel like waves crushing, when your mind stops running.
The echoe of your heart beats inbetween, taking on the lifesong.
The music that sings of dust and wind, of space and time, the sick and the ones getting better or worse...
May Be.
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