I breathe out and extend
flow like water, slow, gentle, steady
but a tumult of power
a touch of force, muscle
supported by the gentle
controlled by the spirit
with roots to the center of the Earth
and limbs stretched to heaven.

I imagine a ball
and rotate it in my hands
as I move as I've moved
so long my body remembers
but sometimes just forgets.

It is nothingness and rock
insubstantial like a cloud
but as strong as a cloud seems;
huge, lumbering with the potential
of a million storms
and the ability to shake the earth.

It is firm persistence
a weak retreat
slow and powerful
the muscles call
and perform with simple spirit.

My last minutes are cherished
for the ball brings joy,
and the satisfaction of being in every moment 
just for every moment
is divine.

I let my thoughts go
and know the peace
of health and strength that comes
with quiet ponderance.

This is a path that leads to a road
comprised of circles, never ceasing.
No beginning never ends, 
giving life as water wanders
ever moving never done.


I have seen the nature of the universe
and it is the bark of a tree
a twisted line of roots sucking life
from piles of lifeless rock

It is a plume of feathers
on the head of a god
or the wing of an angel

it is a pile of wheat
and the evil in my mind

in the end
it is nothing at all.



In the moment
one at a time
the lines are not lines
but leaps and bounds
the steps of an infinite staircase
skewed to the left and right
out of order
out of time
reasonable nothingness
nowhere to go.

Gentle force, firm direction
look to center turn away.
Let it go and be peaceful
have the power and patience
of a stream of water
carried from the top of a mountain
which carves a canyon
in the gray stability
of granite.

I am the stream
sometimes tides misdirect me
and sometimes people, not thinking
throw a rock or two to make waves
but I will still flow on
and my canyon will be carved
it will span miles and centuries
and its walls will hold transcriptions
carved from the matter of my mind.



The snow takes its time
it falls without a schedule
without a watch to structure its life
it lives in virtual silence
and robs the world of sound
crystals cross and glisten
but run away at the touch of my finger
leaving a puddle of invisibility
and a feeling that something
infinite has died in my hand.


Water, giver of life
flows unstoppable
and seeps to the corners
of our world.

Inspiration is as water; 
a calling which permeates the soul
and which takes one's life
on the crest of a wave.

we try to contain it
but there is no dam strong enough
no place in your being
which doesn't feel it.

denying one's path
is like denying rainfall
you think you can escape,
but you are going to get wet.

[Cover | Surroundings | Creativity | Darkness | Life | Nature | Love | Peace | Epilogue]

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"A Look is my Will to Be" ©1997, 1999 Paul Mascott/ Masco Music, all rights reserved

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