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Or short stories here.
Jackson Houdini was
Well thought out and
Planned. The spirit of a
Traveler; a mobile
Angel.
He's got good
Fortune and is still
Really lucky.
A strange mood
Daily and hands
Well played.
A subconcious
Sign of
Lust for life.
-Bruno
Inspired by the book, "Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance"
And the film, "American Beauty".
Of all that's come and gone, memories of friends past,
It's the happiest moments that are most difficult to bare.
It seems these times cannot be held close enough to the heart.
I never want to let them go. I want to burst.
Will there ever be more?
Will they be as pure, as good?
Trying to hold on makes me want to cry.
It can never be. Sometimes it's simpler
To let things go, to let loose a little
And wait for what's to come.
My heart aches when I remember
The times I've had with those I love.
A tidal wave of distant memories
Knocks me to my kneees in a wealth of tears.
What good comes of fearing the future?
What good comes of holding onto the past?
Heart, hold still a minute.
Breath in and think only of the present.
This is my life, my story, my journey.
I am here now and this feeling of being is like
Standing on top of a mountain on a clear day,
Miles upon view. Sun warms my back
And melts the heartache of the past.
This is the closest connection
I've made with my body and my mind.
This moment is bliss, is pure. This moment is gold.
Nothing can bring me down.
-Corona
As the leaves crackle in the darkness, the coyote's footsteps fade away. He was the last to return to his home. Now I sit here alone in the light of my lantern. The andiron glows while the firedogs slowly breakdown. The air is cooling, and through it I can hear the loon calls in the distance and hooting from the owls watching over me. There is an opening in the trees above me. Millions of bright glowing stars may promise clear skies tomorrow.
May 29, 2000; scenes from the Dagwood; the last moments of NPW.
-Bruno
The short life of a young man named Jackson, the son of Jonathan Seasons, is a life of dreams and seeking out fortune. One night Jackson enetered the forest and followed the trail of a migrating salamander only to see it disappear into a vernal pool. Jackson now refers to him as Houdini, for the salamander represents one of nature's master magicians.
Through a dream that night Jackson followed the same salamander once more. As they neared the vernal pool Jackson became intent on tracking Houdini as far as he could. Down under the leaves and into the muddy water, Jackson felt himself adapting to the wet conditions and growing smaller. They entered a world where all come together for one special night. It was a night to frolic and a night to understand a gathering of love and joy. This was the night that the salamander spoke for the very first time.
"Hello my friend. You call me Houdini, but it is clear that you are the one who possesses the energy to transform and create illusion. Jackson Houdini the amalgam, join us wherever you go."
-Bruno