These are my words. These are my thoughts. These are my feelings. They linger here beneath a surface tender. They linger here with emotion palpable. Meandering through this morass of confusion and conflict, stepping over the piles of bits and pieces that are not my own. Each time I find a shard poking and prodding me, demanding my attention I snap at it to say, "Yes! What is it?! What do you want?!" only to find that it is shrapnel from the bomb blast that someone else has ingnited...someone else's wartorn affects. All this baggage is not mine so I hand it back. It's from all the lost battles that precede me. Mountains of mistakes. Mountains of anguish. Mountains of misunderstandings. Mountains of misguided, misdirected energies. Mountains of issues labled with words like abandonment...like rejection....like betrayal...like forgotten....like need greater than any one person could ever hope to fill. Words and meanings wrangled and forlorn tossed at my feet. Words and feelings flung high in the air, diversions and sorrows and mud and pain all mingle together and rain down tears that stream, become torrents of remember when....a forgotten time rewritten to shine a light more kind than true. And it all roils and boils and convolutes, pierces flesh, muscle, tendons and bones to become a constant thrumming of turmoil, rising to crescendo, a cacophony ringing in my ears louder and louder and louder demanding purchase from my soul...a deeper place...a wider place...a wilderness expanse stretching further than mind's eye can see with a message loud and clear....There is no hidden message here for you. There are no secret words between these lines. There is nothing more than all that you know. Take your losses. This is triage. Take stock of the wounds. We all carry scars. We all carry pain. We all wonder why. We all know it all. We are all right. We are all wrong. We are all in this School of the Soul together whether we know it or not. We take and we give. We love and we learn. We learn to love and we live with our choices. We choose what we need. We need our choices to breathe. We breathe in the light of living in quietude and we become nothing more, nothing less than the me that is we and the we that is all in this moment, in this now as we conjure the future alight in momentum that carries us forward, further than dreams, higher than thoughts, into the realms of spirit, ephemeral though it may seem, in transitional eloquence.....

There is no conclusion. There is no end. Our lessons are infinite.