I do not know who you are, where you came from and why at that. I do know that it is not to be should not, could not be. Where are you from? Not my world I know, so where pray tell and what made you find me. The times are such that we met on the high road, it was casual crossing of strangers what made you my acquaintance?
I have observed and watched I read what I see and what is but just beyond my grasp, I don’t get you as yet my friend. You must forgive me for being weary of strangers who carry sugar, it’s an old sin I have come to rely on. There are many sins for one to stray clear of anything that is repeated and not demonstrated till it’s demonstrated. Then there is the sugar, oh the sugar the life source of romantics and did I tell you I am a realist, another sin.
There are other things that trouble the peace and unsettle the soul, the questions oh! the many questions, many questions? Or is it just that one question? Yes it is that one question which may hold all the answers, for I am not above believing in the karmic connections. Cynical is it? No not really, realist remember? So tell me my friend, if you can truly be addressed so, what is this connection that draws you to me? The truth is sensed not spoken the fine lines keep it differentiated from propaganda. Is it not? Those answers my friend have the faint wisps of propaganda. I sense it with every soft fragrant breeze.
Wait let me clear my head! There is more! You read my friend, the senses do they tell you, I guess they do for oh my surprised heart you do get it right, at times or do they warn you? Do they really not warn you, back off and pause a bit will you? I would not want you hurt my friend as I too care for all humanity it’s the human beings I am weary of? Not so of you, strange phenomenon this for I care too, but is it not why I keep it away, safe far from all? If what I hear is true then you need to be cautious my friend as some roads lead nowhere, this is one such road. Then again, look you made me second guess me, do I need to really pin point it? Do I must I classify and box, must I have everything in clear shape? The clouds are a shape, or are they?
Let me clear my head for thought has always been prelude to my actions. Think! Think! Question and observe the clouds will part and I will have my truth. Till then I have these theories, yes based on observed evaluated experience but a theory as yet. As I see it from safely behind my cynical eye wear, it’s a pre mid youth fling? Or is it a reinforcement of it? It has faint hallmarks of dominance. This intrigues me so? While I ponder this study what draws me to you? Yes you are smooth my friend but time is a great leveler, it shall but have to part the smog. While I clear my head you may open your heart to let a peak into your soul, not me I hold mine close.
So there my friend while you fly I ask, and till I know all I seek you shall fly alone. For my flight is my own not shared not open, its high and free and only me. Bring on the sugar! It makes for an occasional dessert.. So there my friend fly safe till I know all that I seek till then let sleeping tigers lie.
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