just for granted

It's like settling a finger on the foam of your beer to hurry the dissolve of excess head. Ready, you are, for the full flavor of the beer.

Thanks to National Geographic for demonstrating for me.

Or that space in between where the clouds match the color of the water below it. And they are, in tune with the weather and weaved with magic.

Or how if you're truly self aware, you know exactly when your past is standing next to you with its' arm on your wrist. It sounds a chiming ring in your body and although maybe you don't reveal; you know. The smallest of actions have circled your shadow and wait to show you how you've been. And it is a question, "How've you been?" Unlike the head shaking madness of instant karma, more a resounding objective clarity that takes you far under ground for the searching.

Or how the Earth holds so many beautiful creatures of a symbolic make-up and who ever decided on make up.

And the way death is as miniature or as large as you deem it.

Sometimes I hear more logical utterings about the weather, the creatures, beer and obstacles and think it might be time to give up the more ghastly approach, but why? Without emphatic speech behind the mere logic it sounds so drab and stops the mind from wandering.

It takes all that to say. Perspective can be granted or taken as such. All necessary. Some roundabout. But the destination you will arrive eventually.

Take the long way home
I suppose...