massaging dimensions neglected
one coffee cup half-filled perched on the corner of the desk casting a shadow to the east, its 'c' shaped holder never used as the right hand slowly makes its way around the cup's diameter embracing the warmth absorbed thru the ceramics one time formed into a three-dimensional shape intended to hold liquid for people to sip the beverage of their choice at their leisure, for their pleasure as time continues to keep death snapping at the heels of life in a ballet performed before token eyes staring into spaces filled with dreams and memories that have been stowed away in three-dimensional trunks that no body could embrace as easily as a mere cup - fantasia it's not but a pastime of mind suddenly conscious of the burden placed upon itself, chuckles run out from between the frozen lips unable to adjust beyond the state of mind cognizant of itself, but there's that rush swooping down upon the unsuspecting innocence of daydreams suddenly protective... but it's too late: like dustbunnies found under the sofa once again mind is disturbed by even the slightest disturbance as it casually and without choice slides into the sight of the caring...crash clammer confusion dispelled throughout the area this space that i inhabit with that coffee cup just to the right of me, my shadow is cast like a die hoping to show the one white dot against its black underbelly acing one as only the beginning of multiple rolls across the smoothed surface of faux wood-grained plastic sealed over a material that obviously is not worthy of looking at, i'm suddenly taken over by another (curious) thought - shadows may be a fourth dimension.
((the last three sips of coffee are cold and meaningless now))
dimensions - one two three and now four the count can go on like pi never resolving no conclusion never a completeness (damn the discovery) but it too is here served before our mind with its impossibility of reaching an answer like our lives of journey both outward and inward - pi, fruitless the search but nourishing enough to keep the journey moving along, pilgrim, we are sustained in our 3-d world enticed by senses that share the dimensions... trailing like mesquite honey over the lips of anguish hungry for more than enough.
three is a trinity, body mind spirit aboard a small boat on a sea of morning coffee sweetened for another day's journey thru duality bouncing gently sometimes harshly against the limits of a yin obstruction or yang obstruction jolting peace as a reminder that three coexists within two and not the other way around for that would repel acceptance of one lurking just on the other side of that distant horizon that is known to exist in reflective moments with patchouli incense wafting into the ethers of thought reminders of times somewhere sometime somehow returning, remedying the wounds of separation.
one is the edge of eternity where we leap with bountiful faith that one is the final... the last step we take is but one as is the first taken before being cognizant of any journey - one is one without further dimensions to disturb it's tranquility but three is impelled to seek four as four will be just as hungry for five... dimensions are multiple as mind allows us to perceive but no-mind is perceptive of any reached conclusion as another reassurance of one.
((one wonder wanders until one surrenders to all as not one in compliance with two but one-two as one without another within the duality of two-ness vying for legitamacy in 3-d - senseless as mindlessness in bliss the hiss of silliness has a fondness for this))
i hear the sounds rolling over the distance as each vowel is performed fully: "ai... yo... wee-kha vo-lo..", foreign sounds a cry, a prayer within silence stirred gently as if to ask for entrance into some special place - i invite the sounds in and embrace them as if we knew each other from some place in time : "ai... yo... wee-kha vo-lo aaa..." i respond from within acknowledging the emotive wail i connect to the primal and breathe in deeply the sounds exchanging like fresh air... rejuvenating stimulating invigorating after a bout of closed doors and windows for hours on end. it all means so little to mind but spirit smiles and body blushes, a memory relit bringing warmth like a favorite blanket to a time that made life significant to being... ancient futures dividing pi... which dimension are these sounds from going to?
i'm left
right here
now gone
'til there
where one
began before
one was
beginning
three dimensions
now should
shadows cast
across a bow
of ships of fools
again but lost
regaining somehow
a never-speak
for silence's vow
healing wounds
of now's removed
in gracious bliss
i caress the cheek
of softest flesh
which i
could ever seek
with fingertips
that could not speak
i say all i
feel inside
((i end as i began - only tracks in the clouds crazy for more))
Cecil
04 March 007
coyote fence
Wile E. Coyote was given the run around by that Roadrunner pajaro...Beep Beep...and everything came in an ACME box or truck, you are right! 
