words: wind and water

I see water as a movable-crystal, alive with many reflections, within which fractal-clusters assemble, like a snow-flake, then melt into another new glimmer of intelligent design, while easily modulated by intentional-percepts, landmarks and the numinous-fingers of planets and stars which form the sounds of words, I find.

The language of wind in the cadence of your heart-beat again, via lungs that swell to a twisting tongue that forms the words so well, free-formed from a water-crystal in your brain, resounding like the sea, making many reflections, linguistically.

Words are like a place-holder for 'sound' and 'value' - which came first the sounds or the meaning? - chicken or egg paradox: semantics -- nonetheless, words have their roots in sound and rhythm, to please or to scare, to fall as platitude or rise aware.

ahh, it's such a sweet-sound in those words that dare to stare with absurdity, a movable-feast for senses half-crazy with overflowed feeling, swoon'd by song, caught in my throat, quickening my breath, their awesome powers of life and death, as they carry me along.

sometimes the rhythm captures the words, like when I ride my bike and feel my heart-beat and the fullness of my legs spinning wheels, and the wind caresses my face while making white-noise, like crashing waves on a beach inside of my ears, over and under, while tides are changing with the gears - or when an image presents itself, unfolds into sounds, then the sounds arrange themselves in cadences, the dance of assonance and the sonics of post-modern imagism, imbued with the romance of irony, their urge-to-merge into the music inside of me...