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Spin, spin, pedal, pedal…
she gets on her bicycle,
she rides…

.....

I've been pedaling for some time now and all the while I've been bravely coping with a low energy level…

Exhausted, I decide to hit up a Starbucks. A couple minutes or so into this paragraph I spot one to my left, to my right and kitty-corner to where I am. I head over to the one on my right and lean my bike up against its outer windowed wall. I walk in, stand in line and then finally order up a Caramel Macchiato, pronounced 'mah-kee-YAH-toe'. OK, it sounds quite la-di-da ‘ish’, but basically it’s a vanilla latte with a wee bit less vanilla, topped up with an extravagant amount of extra foam and then finally to complete it, a rich, gooey caramel sauce is creatively drizzled atop its summit. Sometimes if it doesn’t taste quite sweet enough, I’ll ask for a little bit more vanilla. Sometimes the caramel sauce refuses to dissolve, so I stir and stir and stir again until I feel it’s good to go. I usually order the 16 oz. size which is really just ‘medium’, but pronounced as a ‘GRAWN-day.’ This drink is my personal prescription, used as a means to rejuvenate and boost my inner level of life-giving energy. Now, I don't want to go bouncing off the walls or anything, but a little pick-me-up is most certainly in order at this point in time. It's true; nothing feels better than a little pampering every now and again. Why not entertain the possibility and then smile at the thought of such recklessness…

I head back outside and rest for a while under the clouds…

Then I’m back on the road…

…pedaling dreamily forward,

without even a backward glance,

humming to the tune of 'More Than This'

by Roxy Music…

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G_mSCMgY ... re=related

Oh, and by the way, FYI I sold my roller blades at the five-and-dime this morning as they were becoming too heavy a load to carry alone out here on the open road…

And she pedals…

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=co6WMzDOh1o&ob=av3e

It's a beautiful day
Don't let it get away…

60 minutes, 60 miles, 30 minutes, 30 miles, 20 minutes, 20 miles, 10, 9, 8…

But I could not slow down…

I could not slow down,

I was not afraid…

Oh, I was not afraid!!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TXstgz3u ... re=related

Spin, spin, pedal, pedal…

And she reflects…

.....

They say music is at once the product of feeling and knowledge, for it requires from its disciples, composers and performers alike, not only talent and enthusiasm, but also that knowledge and perception which are the result of protracted study and reflection.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eA3sBuolUkA

Leonard Cohen sings:

And I did forget
My holy song:
And I had no strength
In Babylon.

.....

Ah, the unending flow of the mind, life, the world – and oh, but to make a connection, if only but once, for a single day…

As I sat about dreaming up a recipe for the day, a simple hope came, then led me on, and the hours began to really feel like freedom. Immediately, for but a very brief moment, I felt as though I had stepped out of my body and took flight in the whirligig of life's song.

In the distance and from out of nowhere a mountain sprung into being, douced by a mass of sunlight, since when, nobody knows, its form weighted down way beyond a million years, of years that seem but of yesterday. While scanning that untapped panorama, I caught sight of a lone snail butting up against my peripheral field of vision. Patiently it meandered along the thorny branches of a thistle bush, and then, it appeared to have caught sight of me.

Cheerfully we began to mix and mingle, it was pure bliss. We spoke of poetry and music and life in general, and of how quintessential it was to own a name and to know it is yours. As we spoke, I watched as my words fell softly onto the shiny surface of the snail's back. Startled, it began to move by means of alliteration and body contractions and stretching, at a proverbially low speed of about 1 mm/s, towards some obscure vanishing point, as too, did our words…

Silly Sally
swiftly shooed
seven silly sheep.

The seven silly sheep
Silly Sally shooed
shilly-shallied south.

These sheep
shouldn’t sleep
in a shack;

Sheep
should
sleep
in
a
shed,

said the snail…

Our words, descending a lifeline. It’s what I imagined at that moment, which seemed new, as ordinary things often are. Truth be told at that point of parting, we each left without saying…

We are always running for the thrill of it thrill of it
Always pushing up the hill searching for the thrill of it
On and on and on we are calling out and out again
Never looking down I’m just in awe of what’s in front of me…

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fKfRl3hu ... re=related

The moment passes, unremembered.

And so it was on that perfect day…

.....

Spin, spin, pedal, pedal…
she gets on her bicycle,
she rides…

Spin, spin, pedal, pedal…
she gets on her bicycle,
she rides…

And she sings…

.....

Moons and junes
and ferris wheels,
the dizzy dancing
way you feel
As every fairy tale
comes real;
i've looked at love
that way.
But now it's just
another show.
you leave 'em laughing
when you go
And if you care,
don't let them know,
don't give yourself away…

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bcrEqIpi6sg&feature=fvw

Something's lost but something's gained in living every day…

.....

60 minutes,
60 miles,
30 minutes,
30 miles,
20 minutes,
20 miles,
10,
9,
8…

After pedaling
for many days straight,
alone in the temperate air,
I took refuge under a bridge,
where the atmosphere
felt a little bit reserved,
but casual just the same.

Immediately I was drawn
into the various depths
of my muse, wondering
what next, it might
call to mind.

All of a sudden the
bright and gifted muse
lofted one eye while
winking at me with the other,
as though it were inviting
me in, without too much
pomp and circumstance.

After a small collection of minutes,
the muse and I began to play,
freely interacting within
the quietness of that moment.

They say the mind
is a porous place,
where anything might swim,
save those few words
that float stubbornly
and silent, like thoughts
yet unetched.

All the while,
I listened carefully
to my mind’s interpretation
of things, within the chimerical
back and forth meandering
of myself with my muse.

Looking impatiently on,
I began to inhale the
blue-grey smoke of the clouds,
while carefully spying,
as a means to locate,
those distances that
appear more easy-going,
more appealing to the eye,
the heart, ones soul.

Lost in that present,
ever-so briefly,
I caught sight of a passerby,
with whom I quickly
chanced a smile.

Anxious with spirit,
the passerby offered up
an immediate, well-rounded
‘good day’, in return.

Shortly thereafter,
I caught glimpse of
the glint in his eye
and it weaved through
me in a most peculiar way,
that felt altogether, like
some gracious entrancement.

And then in an instant
I was hit by a very euphoric
outburst of joy, that carried
with it, its own rhythm,
its own vitality, like that
of a well composed poem.

And I became somewhat
intoxicated, just as the wine
began to flow, listening intently
to the poetic resonances
of that particular song,
well it was more of a prayer…

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oI7tuRn3RC0&feature=fvw

.....

she gets on her bicycle,
she rides…

I came upon a very quiet day
that held no special importance,
yet initially, it had peered in my
direction with a puzzled, sleepy
eyed gaze. With no dictionary
at my side to comprehend the
bleak, blank spaces and severely
jumbled-up images that circled
round inside my head, a tumble
of disconnected emotions forced
their way out from under my skin.

As the spheres of my world continued
in their endless rotation, there was
what appeared to be, a joyful unraveling
of things. It was as though in an instant,
my mind and heart had relocated each
other and in the nucleus of their reuniting,
a bud of revelation mysteriously began to
unfold. In the throes of the morning light,
the muscles of my tired face slowly unpinned
themselves and a smile happily worked its
way through to the forefront of me, juxtaposing
itself within the brilliance of the day, making
everything feel whole and complete.

Immediately I began to pedal well into the bright
yellow warmth of the day. As life breathed
me back into it, it continued to exert an enduring
pull while counterbalancing the musings of the days
before. And unless it (time) mandates otherwise, I'll
pedal on within the confluence of its endless rotations.

But that's a guess, no one can ever say it's true…

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7G1u_Keq ... re=related

.....

60 minutes,
60 miles,
30 minutes,
30 miles,
20 minutes,
20 miles,
10,
9,
8…

Sabba sibby sabba
Nooby abba dabba
Le le lo lo
dooby ooby walla
dooby abba dabba
Early morning singing song…

.....

I was held up in this tiny room last night,
which some say can accommodate up to
250 billion memories, give or take 10
million or so. On the outskirts of this room,
if you venture two steps down, with a sharp
turn to the right, you will find yourself within
the cozy comfort of a charming little sitting
area, complete with books, music, pen, paper,
but most significantly, a magnificent view.

They say if you peer through the enormous,
plate glass windows, of this charming little
space, life exposes its fragile self, emerging
just beyond the view's horizon, looking pretty
much the same as it ever was, which is cleverly
more brilliant than it might ever appear to be.

You can dance here too, they say, if you so desire,
or if singing is more your forté, you can raise your
voice to each and every word of any line of every
glorious song that has up until now been produced,
well into the wee hour's of the very next morning,
at least that is what I’ve heard, according to some.

.....

As the sun rises to greet me on this, the very next day,
it seems to be glaring in my direction, having caught me
perhaps, craning my neck towards its very East. Unbeknownst
to the day, I am not going to surrender to its endless ‘tick’ and
‘tock’, which is always way too impossible to quantify, because
I've simply made other plans here in its midst, deciding instead
to play within some time alotted, lost as I am amongst this riot
of colour and the day’s endless sing sing sing song – La la la lo lo…

It just so happens that today, of all days, simplicity has struck its
chord, once again, within the normal pace of my soul's rhythmus,
despite every external indication that an impending world hustles
and bustles about, just beyond my curiosity, on the edge, a few
trillion seconds away, down around the corner - Sabba sibby sabba…

At least one could endeavour to entertain the slightest possibility
of that kind of day, then chance a smile inwardly at the thought of
such recklessness – dooby abba dabba, early morning singing song…

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Szd_59l9qkg&feature=fvsr

.....

La la la lo lo…

Spin, spin, pedal, pedal…
she gets on her bicycle,
she rides…

Happiness hit her like a train on a track
Coming towards her stuck still no turning back…

…..

Creep close and lift the fervor,
here at the corner window where
I sit, outside, lost as I am in the
zeal of this impeccably kind day.

Oh muse, give me another one
of your moments, take hold of
me won’t you – place my happy
heart and soul amongst those
extendable reaches of imagination’s
glorious infinite periphery where
writing is fluid, insights profound.

I've searched extensively today,
looking for particular lines of
poetry that I might in time,
write well and steady, in an
effort to understand the unwinding
of things – that I might in the end,
tip my glass toward you in toast of
appreciation and admiration for
encouraging the rediscovery of
some great spiritual treasure.

In this temperate air I am ready
for anything that might arrive
through the spinning hours of this
well-kept dream, so please muse,
show me your voice, so graceful and
jubilant in rhyme, that originates
like prayers where generosity and
charity of spirit succinctly abound.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RswILD-MDYg

When the dog days are over
who can say where the road goes,
where the day flows –
only time...

And in between each rotation
my soul is writ with a reckless
weightlessness, heaped in the
adrenaline of the moment.

.....

60 minutes,
60 miles,
30 minutes,
30 miles,
20 minutes,
20 miles,
10,
9,
8…

Stubborn as I am, I stood so very still,
perched on the balcony of this elsewhere,
thinking nothing in particular as the birds
chirped in unison all around – and the snow
and my shadow lay quiet and crisp, listening
briefly to time chanting its faint rhythms, lost
in its daily tick-tock – spreading its hands hither
and thither, knowing full well it would all be
translated at this very second, while it forced
me along at such an immeasurably fast pace.

And then it all became a little bit counterintuitive
with regards to my plans for the day, resting here,
amongst this picture, doodling thoughts, trying to
say what it is I might feel, venturing just outside
the borders of what appears to be most familiar.

Just look how the sunlight chases, and how it casts its
glow far off in the capricious grey-blue sky up above.

So I say to myself, why not throw away this silence,
gather up this shadow and be out there, out of here –
tuck it all away somewhere behind this outspoken
light as a means to come out of things unsaid, to scale
the luxury and distance of each unencumbered minute,
erasing all contemplations held in the briefness of before.

....

Already exhausted, I've decided to wind my way back
through to the backdrop of rest – where I’ll no doubt
be cradled on wings of glorious sleep, believe it or not
– circling the slipstreams of unimaginable sing-song
reveries, where freedom is without limits, thus allowing
one to hopscotch forever at break-neck speed down the
endless highway toward the playful sun, because thoughts
are now newly primed for what might come immediately
after this very now – Oh I beg, I beg and plead, singing…

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XbI1FpLd4Vk

.....

60 minutes, 60 miles, 30 minutes, 30 miles, 20 minutes, 20 miles, 10, 9, 8…

But I could not slow down…

I could not slow down

The solitude of this scene
adds to the serenity of the
day that planted itself in
front of me on this jingle,
jangle morning that keeps
trying to run away – look
how it comes, tumbling up
after itself, unstitched and
fragile-like as I traipse ever
so swiftly among its grand
corridors, where there’s no
sound to be heard, save for
the jovial song of the Byrds
and the silent free-fall of a
zillion snowflakes drifting
high from above – oh what
it is to feel so alive, lost in
this warm little thought, to
dream right here midst the
space of this moment, until
the hour slips ever so gently
out from under time’s hush,
melting in a heap of forgetful,
lost to me even before I could
reach it – for all that it was, it
shall never be, somehow not
ever again – ready for to fade…

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=06rGW0AQGiY

Hey! Mr. Tambourine Man, play
a song for me, In the jingle jangle
morning I’ll come followin’ you…

.....

Spin, spin, pedal, pedal…
she gets on her bicycle,
she rides…

60 minutes, 60 miles, 30 minutes, 30 miles, 20 minutes, 20 miles, 10, 9, 8…

I often think about you when I’m pedaling
alone in my room with my soul open and
the daydream lost somewhere in my head…

.....

Anticipation wells as the day at hand sheds its audible
complexion. In this mind where I sometimes hide,
I am fully awake amid the slant of December, playing
pretend between the trees, here in the thick of the snow.

Silent reveries pile up, each resting on the cusp of
the other in the immaculate white of these hours,
where I'm lost, in search of a photograph. Suddenly,
a cool breeze with its anonymity intact, slips under
the layered folds of my clothing. Chilling to the bone,
it awakens me to the beautiful poetry of this frigid day.

Listening to the poet, enamoured still, by his voice
that massages the small details of these simple hours,
my mind immediately draws back into all the old songs,
whose words lead me astray, here in my room, just as
a kiss-worn joy noses the air on this isolated afternoon.

I came so far for beauty
I left so much behind…

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RLfZCraw_4c

.....

60 minutes,
60 miles,
30 minutes,
30 miles,
20 minutes,
20 miles,
10,
9,
8…

Taking measure of the distance I have so far pedaled, my mind begins to reflect on the flow of each day – all of which have been good enough, save for the few that are framed in seriousness and pensive states of mood. Fortunately most of my days revolve around the steady tick and tock talk of each and every amazing hour. But there is this one day in particular that stands out as being quite exemplary amongst the many incredible days I've spent pedaling on this journey that is mostly made up of sheer delights.

If you can, playfully imagine this…I was standing outdoors, breathing in the day high atop the mountain, when I noticed an unusually festive atmosphere coming at me by way of the forest's corridor. Arrested by this unfamiliar buzz in the air, my gaze caught sight of an elephant playing in a band, carving a stylish turn through the snow, just as a giant was glimpsed practicing cartwheels on up ahead, well more like a mere eleven-hundredths of a second away from where I stood amid the pliable fabric of this make-believe day. Right away an incredulous sense of humour kicked in, tickling the tip of my funny bone, which in turn produced in me one of the loudest, most hilarious chuckles you probably could never imagine. Truth be told, it kinda frightened me. Shortly thereafter it immediately occurs to me that perhaps I'd better sit down. Soon enough, lo and behold imagination sets in and I find myself singin'…Doo, doo, doo, lookin' out my back door…

.....

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GeJuUqDqY00

Bother me tomorrow, today I'll buy no sorrow
Doo, doo, doo, lookin' out my back door…

.....

And she spins, spins
pedaling dreamily forward
without a backward glance – 10, 9, 8…

Slowly our days linger, adrift in the chasms of memory. There is something
to be said about the graceful ways in which each of them unravel. Daily, I
try hard to conceive their fleeting landscapes, yet the hours all too quickly
vanish, dissolving into the vast untranslatable universe. Each and every separate
slice of memory re-emerges in time, but I find it hard to assign a name to those
particular moments that stand out above all the rest as being most significant
among the fond remembrances held within life's magnificent circuitous journey.

Somewhere out there I dwell, content in the transience of each moment, pausing
within the extremities of the environment. I am always in search of those intriguing
dreams, those illusive encounters, those configurations of a day, that can be summed
up simply as pockets of truth that are felt to be real within the light of ones perception.
There is harmony to be found amid life's intrinsically wrought landscapes, navigating as
we often-times do among the roaring currents of its countless unexplored geographies.

.....

In bare feet, I long to enter those particular
places that are accompanied by the gentle hum
of nature so as to fold silently into its poised serenity,
while subtle presences within quietly but insistently
press on toward some sort of poetic revelation.

.....

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MKfDwChOoHI

I had a dream
That I could fly from the highest swing.
I had a dream.