Arise to your level
sheltering encouraging LIFE
Prize the voices echoed.
the line forms deliberately jangling the western mind as it is built upon itself. forever it seems seperating one side from another oreven carefully placing itself into being the guardian of what’s to come. material upon material laboured into place yet asking in a voiceless way to be…not just the evil enemy of living free and unencumbered but begging one to understand it is a friend really wishing to stand sentry over all that’s to be. a wall is a line in simplest forms and it seeks of it’self nothing but to provide within what it is…a line – be that of times when one side sees the day’s shadows to the cackling voices of a party one side of it enjoying it’s gift of standing before the mean sun or the otherside with it’s retorts the other side of the day’s shadows allowing those present the chance at glee. a line between when one can enjoy the best times- save noon when neither find much protection either side of that line. Ask me if a breakfast of bloody maries over herb chicken and capers lemony would offend you any less than summer’s squash and it’s garden conspirators grilled to a kebab as delight to make a wand to direct the life’s music that line sent of it’s evening shadows divine?
fiction is something imagined perhaps or perhaps not plausible but still imagined now with me take the lime as a wash of white about the clay bricks packed together and dried with a capstone of fired bricks of salmone topping the avenues of squirrels taunting dog from above – skitter and twittered laughter of haha on you…BARK! Imagine a young boy set to the bucket brigades of rewashing this line it’s color innocence versus dusty and dingy and how he whines in spirit of such a despicable thing it is to be clean or being unable to abandon himself better to play. imagine the ironwork be-cushioned as who wants to grill their bottom in what happens when sun sings all day to the metal furniture ready to grill your bottom away. imagine a carafe of jewels ice perhaps dilluting lemonade, grapefruit, seltzer and wine. Imagine now it is by far not an obstruction this line we might say is a wall but it is a blessing to make more what is.
a wall has to it permanence yet interestingly it’s far less permanant than that of the scenery it is a line across or through. funny that. look around for the lines you see be they stone wooden lines linked within steel and the occassional weed laughing at how it used the fence to break the line of the weed whacking machine to keep most of it alive. look around you that you’ve many lines and each of them talks to the possibilities of your lives. four perhaps together allow secrets to be explored without so much care. two make up a feeling of a chute funneling inward whatever comes. and imagine the cliche if these walls could talk – oh what would they say? I bet they say that tragedy and it’s twin joyful glee visited often with thee. another line left out the wind and rain or perhaps snow and cold or with help some summer sizzles. yet think how often you think of a wall as an obstruction versus just that of a line.
#fictionFridays – wall, obviously I’m still poetic and in no mood to make up characters and salacious sex stories or how evil caught it’s hold and the torment’s rained. so imagine a wall… but call it a line. I bet you most have defined so many of your times. if you see mine whitewashed with salmon roads for squirrels to skitter about, drink within it’s shades be it morning or evening… then score one for me but i’m aiming to win you think with a laugh that walls are better called lines as they’ve been maligned as obstructions.