A woman with purple hair walks by.  Does she wish to imitate the flowers?  Is she a violet or a common weed?  We all need love to make us grow; for the flowers it is the rain. Herein lies the truth of our existence, why we are composed of water and flesh, the water is the reservoir of our love, keep it replenished and share when you can.  

Youth that wondrous thing that shines like a silver buckle on a belt, so shiny new and polished with reflections of endeavours, hope and truth.

​The call comes surprisingly on a hot day, a day I have no wish to be out in, a day where cool seas and high mountains feature in my dreams.
Can I fool myself to embrace a planet in flux, can I forgive, can YOU?
The rim of extinction is barely an inch away.  

Somewhere in the world of writing there is a well of knowledge that hides behind a veil of intellect.  Probe, pull it apart, drop it into a bucket of water, watch the ripples as they flush the debris from the surface to the edges, in the way that the wind blows the rubbish into a pile in the corner.  Wash your hands in this water to purify your life. 

Make time for those that you love and be polite to those that you don't care for.  Roles can be reversed and there may come a time when those same people will become your friends.  It is as though we are being tested to see how truly spiritual we are. 

​Are we born to follow the herd or should we find our own path?  So many paths through the desert - the sand would part then swallow our trail.  We would be lost; we would be unable to find our way home.  Perhaps that is why we prefer to travel with others, prefer to collectively agree upon a course of action or a deviation from the truth.  We are only human after all.

Calling the ones with their backs turned, those looking towards the future, the ones refusing to glance left or right, refusing to link hands with those on the same journey.
And behind you, what of those left behind? The ones who cannot walk so fast, the ones who have responsibilities, the sick, the old, the ones who have run out of faith - in themselves and in the wider world, what of them? 
Yes you will walk ahead, but the further you walk the nearer you will be to catching up on those you left behind.  For the walk we do is circular, none of it is new ground, just century upon century, generation upon generation of worn footprints.
Instead take smaller steps, look around, enjoy the journey, and embrace those who share it whether they be on the same path or one running parallel.
If you don't then be prepared to catch up with yourself - walking alone behind the rest. 

Stillness is the key to creativity, without it in mind body and consciousness the thread will break and like droplets of dew will seek out a thousand avenues – none of which lead to any place of value.  Learn to be still and learn to accept these words as they spill out from the void.  Answers are coming but before they arrive many lessons need to be learnt.  It will be hard. 

Catch the muse, catch the light.  Open up and see the sky, the purple messengers in the clouds.  Sparks of affection in the sun's rays.
Alone, so many are alone - man seeks control but it isn't his domain.  Soon things will change. An anger builds beyond the sky at what they see as human interference in the plan so far - who dares, not they.
A wave so strong will sweep away the evil of this earth but not for all, there will be many who prevail.  And so go forth.  Be sure their masks will slip, they cannot hide.