reggieTull

As the light leaves the office space,
I glance up from my lit screen. 

In the corner of the room lurk vibrating globules of space. 
Possibly,  perceptual artifacts...
Possibly, connections to another space...
A space that is reaching out.

Possibly, a reaction to a busy concentrated day...

An unexpected contented peace washes over me,
A spinal chill ripples up me. 

Annie Lennox sings the same song over and over again.

One long extended sound...
One long extended breath...

A tool for bringing me back to the words. 
A focus that wakes me and shakes me. 

The song begins again...

I am connecting since I need to connect. 
I write since I need to express. 
I work since I have no choice. 

It is a special life. 
It is a time-honored tradition. 

Yes, a tradition to be. 

So many questions dance across my mind. 
Daily, Nightly, Weekly, Monthly and through the years,
The dance of the mind continues.

There are mere breaks through tasks and daily actions,
The minds pops out and then back into something. 

I am here now and then I am gone.