Making Mud

I have been a poor collector,

abandoning hope after hope

enchantment after enchantment
charm after charm.

Instead
I collect wooden bowls
and in turn they collect dust
the dust waits for rain
the rain waits for clouds
and mud waits for alchemy.

BFM

Show You the Door

If I show you a door, do I need to supply dialog? Would it be the same as a window looking out into gray harsh misted field where buffalo once roamed in rooms as large as dinosaur skulls? There is a Neanderthal boy in the field, running, playing or fleeing it hasn't changed. All these, are things of a changing order taking millions of years during which a trillion-billion-million snow flakes will fall, then you will be born. Broken. Healed. Broken. Chased across a field of dandelions. Loved. Madness bouts. Loss. Then you or I will be eaten by a yet to be named virus that causes someone to dream a reality that makes you believe you are the beginnings of a sun.

B.F.M.