Met-a-phys-ics

In a nut shell is the philosophy that studies epistemology and cosmetology.  It studies the nature of the relationship between mind and matter.  Of being and knowing.

Color Red

Dropping into the rocky foothills of the Himalayans, the veil of thin air expanding into lungs.  Rib cage rises and falls with each and every breath.  Body beaten, muddled mind, climbing, searching.  Safely navigating through the ravines, blazing through the isolated ranges. Rocks, Valleys, Plateaus, RISING, f-a-l-l-i-n-g, PlaTEAu.  Pressing on, chasing, idealistic, young dreamer.  Wandering nomad living just for today.  Leathered face, worn and weathered.  Wise.  Fabrics of golden yellows, chartreuse and claret, ragged and worn adorn.  Not pressed by goals or achievements concerned with the spiritual.  United.  Connection misfired, unity impractical a relationship based on fiery desire.  Outstretched hands giving strength to the other, in passing, a moment of time. Creating a much needed connection. Gone in the blink of an eye a moment in time.  Sweet and blissful for just a moment. Tired. Never fully understanding, not aware, unconscious, once mysterious now discovered.  Substance or Excessive?  Exhausted.  Opaque becomes transparent.  Ashes fall, burned, rising up, soaring, untouchable, Phoenix.  Eternal.  RED

Lost

Never thought this was possible.  The air that was once filled with joy and laughter has been replaced by the bitterness of yesteryear.  Silence echoes of my heart resonate through the stillness of time as it ticks away slowly and painfully with every swish every sway of the pendulum.  Inevitably shaken my lips quiver, eyes well and emptiness fills my soul.  Longing for what might have been, searching for what could be and hoping that tomorrow will be just a bit brighter.  Lost but not forgotten. Frozen. Seeking that which ought not to be sought and reflecting, gazing deeply into the mirrored abyss.  Losing you slowly, metamorphically I come to be.  Myself gloriously revealed, tacky wings pulsating in the air, stronger, they move up and down in the wind, building strength with each pulsating beat until I gather enough strength and courage to try to fly.  Fly, fly high away.  Breathe.  Beautiful butterfly, spirit completely transformed I am me.