CATTLE CONSCIENCE

Once, there was a herd of cattle grazing on a farmland, they knew not its owner, nor their own gentle nomad. What was surely apparent was how the field popped with green and golden brown. This would have been a sure feast for man, in constant fear of unknown winds. Yet feed for the animal, always aware that basics are intrinsic and satisfaction-not greed, guaranteed. Much had been consumed for digestive pursuits: A lot of regurgitating to be done, with no fear that the fields may burn or the day worn. Each fed and each lay to rest with sun come-down.

"A time for everything", Solomon would remark, centuries down as these affairs of nature spoke to his fears, "Freedom".

Unfamiliar as it was, this field; out of routine, as it was, this moment, the large herd heard no mysteries in the wind. they knew not appetite for deduction; to deduce what influences may cause such ecstasy: neither the how, nor why, or the when, entertained their attention. It was a Creator's invention and so it would be. Freedom.  

Their attention, steady, as they gazed ahead and grazed. nothing to lose and nothing pursued. They lay with acres and watched before them, the sun, routinely exit for stars to blaze. It was the first they had ever seen, but they had strict vision or what may be called attention to Existence.

Contentment was the message they relayed- come little or surplus, they made hay with the sun rays.. and the sun shined each day.

Freedom as it were, held a taste for them. A taste all too familiar but always new. Green as it was on the other side, every side left them satisfied. A strict diet to the soul, this is what it was. Earth owed them nothing but gave them much. A fine Existence. 

It was Day 5, and the Cattle were created from the land. Mother Nature as it were, knew not pollution, but pollen; and the Creator, Time: from start to new beginnings. A capturing of a time when definite instruction led all man and creature: that all Creation must serve other Creation. Like everywhere the cow gazed it could graze off Earth's plentiful fields and natural lakes. This was Day 5 and not even 7's perfection. Manna was never an addition to the Plan, it was the Plan; Existence as natural as few fish for the mouths of a multitude. But man must always fall to his knees, undignified by fear. Man-made disharmony since time and time aplenty for more. Freedom is neither strictly a state of mind, nor a state of affairs... Freedom is the understanding of a Guarantee. 

no one said life will be hard. none said easy. u make it what it will be. i say life's but a camouflage. u sought the tree & found its seed

if you know not, say you know not. if you ask for, many shall come forth. we live in a disciplined universe. ask & ye receive.

DJANGO'S TATTOO

before riding wings, i touched dreams of you. before ever seeing the vast wings of legends who guard sky's gates, it was always you..an image of you.

it was like a tattoo: green and sunshine new. more actually, like a mirage: once there & never there, all at once; this was a pale of rain behind the gates of hell. only a drop or two for uncountables left in hell to brew.

innumerable indeed, you'll find, were the drops, but un-quenchable was the thirst that pain itself knew. oh yes, it grew; the pain grew..as i held an image only of you. an image not even of you, but a simple tattoo.

just as the uncountable having remembered thirst, know now of hunger and how it grows from the belly to the chest, it's become a holy pandemonium. a drop of water for once, in a burning desert and ambitions are reborn. hell's fury hath no hearth like ambition reborn inside my chest. one drop in a burning desert holds an ocean view for me, it's truth.

a silhouette of you traced into skin on my back...a silhouette i can view only as light hits a mirror. what then must i do, but ride wings unto wings, from sky to greater skies. i must flee earth for the sun. beneath its unshaken love for our world, and its scorching fury this is what i'll do: i'll put forth my back and watch as the silhouette of you is transposed and transmitted; reflected and returned back onto the grounds of that one planet earth.  

as the sun sets, it will feature your face for the world to get an open view. i know i have found you, for the world wants you too. and not only you, but the source of the view: not the sun but the tattoo.

as i cried to be reborn, i found an ocean within my many tears. hell hath no fury like lovers lost. you must have known i'll always find you.