Synchronicity

Everything

seems like

coincidences that actually love me

That want to guide me

All of it

Everything

My surroundings have been painted in royal hues that have transformed the content of my atmosphere

Everyone points this out every time that there comes the chance

But, chances do not exist

They are not constructed within the barriers of time

Chances are that chances are something much more holy then we could have ever dreamed

Synchronicity is the divinity that silences the pitch of inner voices with all of their annoying screams

That bitch that turns into a banshee when we lose ourselves to what remains of our woe

It knows nothing now

Not any longer

The will to live is stronger that it has ever been

Everyone wants to win and winning is not a wicked game

It is when we all come forth from the silence in unison to prove to our creator that we are still one in the same

To chant our visions to the skies in the various tongues that know His sacred names

Nothing differs nor sounds the same in the wretched world of one on one

We should have known from the moment that we found our breath that such a silly concept equals certain doom

The room suddenly becomes thick with the vibrant stench of human bullshit

The Taurus squeezing taurine from its own testicles sparks the hearth fire, pushing balls to move everything forward

Stopping only when desire gives us our only need for any reason to have natural urges

To be penetrated by the shafts of our brave new warriors

Our boys, our men

The synchronicity is booming all around us

Spring has arrived to re-warm our wigwams so gallantly once again

Planting only the seeds that we know that we want to sew this time around

Leaving nothing out

No part of this Earth shall be barren

Nothing without the fruits of labor and roto-tilled soil

Everything is coming back together and nobody really seems surprised

Even the weather with all of its craziness lately seems so content

So synchronized...

3/9/2014