Fortunate are...

Fortunate are they that have ability to express to others in writing or thought or word what plays incessantly within ..

Fortunate are they that can assess, decipher, see another angle or viewpoint, analyse, comment .. and have the freedom to never be questioned on it ..

Fortunate are those individuals and institutions that possess the power and expertise or the intellect to do so ..

Fortunate are they that see a vision, a future and live and work towards its completion ..

Fortunate are those visions that seek completion and witness derivation ..

Fortunate are those dreams that visited us each hour of the day and then disappeared as soon as they were achieved ..

Who was it that did all this ? And how and where and when ?

I carry many such without any fruition .. I carry mangled and mingled thoughts that burst at the seams, but do not explode but implode within .. I struggle each day with them seeking expression or voice .. I struggle too in keeping them withdrawn .. I lament that I do, but I know that that too is a futile expression of grief or sorrow .. I do also know that all may not necessarily be all grim and grief .. but I do know that their exits shall be constrained limited and perhaps better not expressed ..

Were there to be an invention that would have the ability to read explicitly the workings of speech and thought within the human .. were there to be an invention to pick at will what has been floated in the hemisphere and the atmosphere through those air waves that abound .. were there to be all this .. I wonder how many of us would be there to witness such ..

Documentation then, resides in our beings on thoughts within .. they are the truest that we get to know and ‘hear’ what expression expressed was expressed .. so ..

Fortunate are they that believe in the documentation of theirs .. and others and many .. for they shall have the time and the substance to revert back to past presents and perhaps the visions of the future ..
It is difficult to put words within as you travel each day in the city of my first dreams .. the city that gave me my first job, my first freedom, my independent living, my choice of work and associations and connects .. they remain lasting and long ..

I find it difficult too to relate with the many that pass through each day among the drives on the streets .. those landmarked destinations now almost redundant and covered or shadowed by development .. somehow that feel of the past removes itself .. it seems as though the past was perhaps another existence, another chapter of a past life .. but then .. just as age removes tell tale features on the human face with time, so does the city and its environs change with even greater time .. somehow those days were more enveloping and lasting .. identifiable and loved .. the face that remained in memory has been cast upon with opaque filters .. drawing away that which should have remained vivid, but regrettably not …

Yet .. that which has been, has been .. and has been lived well in whatever means availed themselves to us .. it is healthy at times to visit them and recollect .. it is even healthier to remember them with grace and kind .. they were the special days then, perhaps without notice .. they have become even more special in  sight ..

Time has changed me several times .. time has remained constant ; it has dutifully moved .. done what it does best .. cycled past events places destinations and individuals ..

My love ..

DiL