We all adapt and it’s just as one would change their mind.  That is by itself evolution; the human individual.  My mind isn’t closed.  Full throttle.  I’ve been a miner for a heart of gold.  And I’m gettin old.
dirt under my finger nail
smoke in my nostril
kick myself down
nothing to need of
anyone
but it comes around
like is goes to town
it blows beyond
espectation
I’m alive again.
 
Dying.
 
Living one day at a time learning to never give in again, again.  It’s the hardest long road I would’ve expected in this sweat of my brow.  Sour.  Soul borrowed.  Never break my stride or take my stride I live life out.  Carry my doubt.  Burdens no weight to the stout – no – love.   No hate!  In your eyes I see the world no simple girl.  I’m still trying to make up my mind.  Am I free or am I tied up?  Holes to fill like ditches we dig.  There is no olive branch or fig.  There is only one life to live.  Are you free or are you tied up?
Animals.  Thank God.
Plant by George Hodan

This post was last modified on December 7, 2012 - learn more.

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