To the rest of the world they probably seemed like just an ordinary couple with just an ordinary life, but they knew better—two beats of ‘something’ of meaning in a measure of all beats of life’s infinite symphony. They sometimes themselves may not have understood the relationship—sometimes they were friends—sometimes they were more than friends, other times they seemed strangers to one another. But the most courageous thing they ever did was to just be—to just keep dreaming the possible dream, whether it be possible, or not.



Eileen kept silent words amid troubled existence of un-resolved fate amid matters of questioned reality              Love being a crutch honored once forsaken of destiny’s due course of ‘self’ lost in wrath’s consequence of engaging oratory; a personal understanding of          nay and nay as she continued her way through ignorance of mortal place





Do met me where the morning Sun creeps upon the shore—we placed our love there for keeps evermore.

Abstract on the beach (Nick Bodimeade Black and white Noir et blanc Silhouettes)

(B/W artwork by Nick Bodimeade –





David divinely reaped melancholic muse—sublime passion amid cumbersome worldly woes entwined of joy’s rare rapture of vivid rhythms candidly dancing to comfort an inward solace of sorrows left faded to personal lyrical tones of deeply hardened angst-ed chains; a refuge of symphonic apologies 





David and Eileen once did believe the forces for good answered their heart’s desires. Love did deliver possible promises of once-upon-a-times and happily-ever-afters attached to personal tears of pondering.  They were grateful for once forgotten instinctual skills returned, granted toward considerations of curiosity as they came together.  Again was ‘seen’ and felt and known that love endures of a desire, and even to the broken-hearted wanting to feel once more. Faith was lost for a time in matters of love, replaced by an overwhelming numbness to pacify personal pains assumed to forgotten. Love seemed faded to un-realities of chance.  And so abruptly tossed by life they were—together into survival mode burdened with each others deeply emotional scaring. They did feel the judgemental eyes of others as though being looked upon with disappointment as they drew down a “rabbit hole” of uncontrolled circumstance. And fall they did, beyond a will of understanding: An enduring preoccupation of survival,  causing a separation from everything they most loved of the world. No one could possibly relate to what David and Eileen were experiencing. As it was uniquely their own. They could find no words of meaning to express causation: A loss of control ensuing of abrupt and nonsensical life changes—surrealistic senerios taking place about and around them. And certainly, and regardless of personal woes, they had no thoughts of, nor intentions toward hurting anyone. Who plans on becoming burdensome?



David and Eileen spend quite some time in the deep end of pondering questions asked and answers questioned. They came to an awareness that the rapidly creeping chaos of burden placed upon the imaginations of life, seemed to be nothing more than illusions and delusions perpetrated of deceitful endeavors building upon some grand pius agenda; a proposed ‘secreted prophesy’ of propaganda initiated and pursued by  an apathetic secular societal ‘leadership’ wishing only to satisfy their arrogant sins of greed and malice intent of gain of power over everything of the life-force. Immoral acts against humanity and the Earth and all kind of the Earth. Witnessed by the any, ungodly acts committed upon the human family on a global scale!

David and Eileen did come full-circle along a seemingly life-sucking path of proposed pending doom! Their instincts heightened to full aware in “pursuits” of the always elusive happiness; a simplistic endeavor to live and to let live. They came to realization, that there was no place for them in such fallacy proposed of a supposed “new world order, and instead, “David and Eileen chose to resume a path of pursuance toward an already existing old world order . . . humanity . . . the one vested of veiled truths of heart . . . the one of just being themselves. They became the ‘path’ . . . their own.  They knew they could not survive and thrive any other way!  A faith in themselves became the way.  Hope was kept alive in standing guard for joy’s permissions of intermittent expression.  They chose to leave wisdom’s moments of understanding to negate on their behalf of undeserved and misunderstood loss to it’s amiss and just judgment.  It seemed as though They had been given a return of mind restored to ‘see’  the simplistic beauty of life, and even if only to heal their sense of loss and brokenness. ©




Mysteries of the imagination are personal conversations with a ‘God’ of ‘something’ we feel most passionate and tender: A message instilled to soul to just be love fulfilled. Be silence—stilled to a stirring of alternate move found in the seeking. Come to ‘see’ that happiness relentlessly seeks us from within: An invitation to heart’s redemption.


And in the end
of He and I . . .
words ran dry . . .
he didn’t try . . .
nor did I . . .
but on par we are . . .
as he just is . . .
and I just am . . .
and we just are
(excerpted from a writting of Lang Leav)



Surly must be true . . . “If  you’re not confused, then you’re not paying attention”

―Tom Peters (Author, 
Thriving on Chaos”)



Love doesn’t die, but merely transforms. Cherish the days of the rain.

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