The sun sets during the sunrise

Time flies like a bird. It skips and hops and rises on an air-stream, and pecks in the mud.
It grows like a strawberry vine, flat and fragrant, snaking across the field in waving rows.
We walk through a paradise of green, and admire the statuary; we imagine moving picture shows- morphing dolphins and great apes.
Trees muscle and claw from their hidden upside-down world, a very gradual anchor or great gnarled fingers. Such such huge organic lives, 125% bigger on the bottom than the top, and stronger pound for pound than steel, we casually walk past enormous beings as casually as we do a mailbox or a do-not-walk sign.
Music makes me float away; have to bodily rip away from it to keep from dissolving, a glittering crystal reaction dissolving into pure space.
I can see so deep into the rationalizations, the subtleties of everything around me; can feel the pressure of the air around me, can feel the urging, surging wave that pushes me along.
The music becomes a completely organic part of what I’m seeing and experiencing- a natural soundtrack to reality. Shrubs and bushes threaten to overtake the sidewalk, and I smile.
A neighbor has left a small wooden ladder feeding into the inside of the plant. It’s been there for months, and has grown into the bush itself, a ladder into another world, a teleportator, a true door to perception. I duck my head into the scratching blackness of another world, but am pulled back by Lucy, and her 15 foot leash.
I find my way home and I see an inclusive nothing when I look in the mirror.
We’re not honest enough with ourselves or with one another; we deny our feelings until they cannot be controlled. We’ve lost the instant communication of feeling enjoyed by animals. Filtered through our ego, our fear, and our social grooming, we haven’t the constant banter of a pond full of ducks and mallards, with great flashes of green ripping across their wings. Crying from one end of the pond to the other, there is instant reproach or reward for every action. Breeding rights, access to food and recreation.
We make noise about such different things than ducks, you think?
We’ve been conditioned to live so far away from ourselves; anything that brings you closer to yourself brings you closer to everyone else.
The world around you breaths as we do; in and out, distorting and waving like flags in uneven breezes, colours squeeze and pull into a painters palette dropped on a hard floor, swirling down the grout lines, scooped into the sink and combusted into dizzying patterns, snaking through our plumbing.
Sneaking into other houses, miles down the road; a wave of colour and dizzying reward crawling through the storn drain.
Colour is a refractive experience of reflection into the eye. Rejected light beams, caught by our eye, which is assumed to constitute reality. Only a human being could formulate a reality in which a known distortion of white light perceived as colour, could masquerade as fact.
Perception and thought have died a sloppy death.
I realize how little people usually observe- we look at everyone around us, and see only a perception of ourselves. A reality created by comparison.
The forest exarts a great pull on me, something about it is so evocative, to me, it has a hard, very heavy vibration to it, a swaying force in high wind.
I feel spirits in wood, affinity with the trees, kinship with wild animals, at home in wild places. Cities are more foreign to me, and hold that certain foreign excitement and charm.
But which seem more intolerable for their charm, when conditions go bad.
Any learned behavior or idea must be impressed into us, and it invariably leaves a mark, which is felt more or less based on ones sensitivity. To teach a child shame at their bodily functions is one of the deepest seated and difficult repressions in our psyche. It rips through our lives, with an irrational fear- we don’t usually recognize it, but at its most basic level, our lives are dictated by the whims of our bladder and bowels.
A thought or motivation that begins within is an outward explosion of inner energy propelled with violent force, and is the opposite of being taught or of learning, which is a force applied to you, a rape, a beating. Why allow learning to be associated with shame, pain and guilt?
Now the sun starts to crest the edge of the horizon, and throws its bulk against the earth. Under the new light of the sun, the walls settle into their foundations and cease to melt like cheap candles into a puddle on the floor.
A quietness and completeness is left to settle into an oil slick rainbow on the back of my brain, and I set beneath the horizon as the world wakes.