sparrows crawl

Here it comes through the open playing fields. Here it drives forward and through leaving traces no more noticeable than the one's before. The settled dust reveals a sun drench plane with no remnants of any kind. They swerve and tangle themselves up inside us without intention. They come through the impossibility of imaginationed retribution, serving the Lords of the past in the now somehow. Here they come. Can you feel them? Is there something on the horizon for you? Something wonderful and fresh and new? I think I can feel it too. There they go again but not gone forever. They go away for now to become anothers' treasure. The thoughts you/we have, the one's that mean the most, as irrational as they are, their guidance will be your your host. The ghosts listen to you. They listen to me. They know more than we do. They always have. Where do your ghosts think you need to be? Happy or unhappy? LLc 98.2