Beneath the sun, life is,
beneath the stars, life was,
on it goes, the swirl and blur,
life brings on chaos, wonderment and air.
Beneath the sun, life ended,
beneath the stars, life mended,
down and out, the hurt soul yearns,
realizations made, failure burns.
Beneath the sun, life was good,
beneath the stars, life innocence brood,
continuing with the planetary path,
never stopping, observing orbital math.
Beneath the stars life is great,
beneath the stars life to contemplate.
If I could know intentions,
those true, pure, untouched
Then my heart could open,
my soul for only one
We don't know each other, yet,
my eyes linger to you
To better aquaint myself,
and you, slowly, shyly
But ask me not of my past,
consciousness, once darkened
For when your soul I first saw,
the beginning hardly matters
I know, we know, that it's strange,
to feel this for a stranger
My promise for you, truly,
is not but good intention
As the dawning morning brings to light the squirrel in the grass, the pink peacocks graze with the mechaniturtiwulfs. It's these high society figures that form the Peakcock Pillidockery Society. The most ambiguously anonymous, sillimackerous society of primordially queer spledifurous birds.
I went dog sledding this past weekend till Tuesday. It was up in Algonquin Canada, near South River, with Chocpaw Expeditions. It's such an awesome trip. Now if I can find the cameras, I'll upload some pictures.
In later news, I am one of the newest Eagle Scouts in Boy Scout Troop 1001. I had my Eagle Board of Review on last Thursday. Yeah! But I still liked dog sledding better. I can't wait to see if the sunrise picture developed correctly or not. Who knows, I might even have one of myself.
Finally, my Solo and Ensemble Group has chosen the next song for State competition. Go here to hear "Die Bankelsangerlieder" by An