Spinning faster than the pulse can ripple through our veins,
 deeper than moisture can escape the shackels that force it to turn into rain, we break out of our frame-simple and plain-only the residue of our
past life remains.

We are strangers in a world that speaks a language that we don;t understand, without a road map to plan-time to kick the can? because the sparrow can't land, due to our false set of comfort our journy is at hand.

Who goes there-what is where-why are perceptions so cold and bare. when did they remove the warm wet air.

Image flying past my desires to grasp-I cannot ask,  speech is not the first to form its the last.

I cling, I cry out with a echo like screem, that can penetrate the longest dream, crisp and clean. its cuts through wax like a lazer beam. Closer and closer they come, unexpected pains of needing someone, this is not fun, in fact this needs to be over and done.

Ahhhh, sweet relief, with a sense of peace, strength replaces what was weak. I now know what it is to peek and who to seek and what makes one humble and meek.

Bonding and love, Love and bounding, its strange but i like the way this is un-winding. many things to learn, many more to see, the fun of all this is I am just learning what to takes to be me.

Unwrap the covers and smile to these others, who are blocking my view of this stranger I call mother. In other ways I will express what i say, as i talk and learn and enjoy my first day.