where we cross the line

lines crease unceasingly all around, in myriad ways, defining, refining, pantomiming the borders between this and that.
there are words for all of this, and then there are not, because wordlessness works better sometimes.
when we say what we mean, we reveal a truth unbeknownst even unto ourselves before that very minute. go ahead and speak aloud those words you think will help, and forever obscure the pure meaning of the moment.
what am i trying to say?
don't speak. and be the amazing light we all can be, when we dream...





[by the way, i hope i sound okay translated into other languanges through google. i would ask people to leave me a note, saying where they come from, but if you don't speak english, i likely will not understand you. this is a result, sadly, of my ethnocentric american education and lack of motivation. but if i could learn a language, it would be portugese. or maybe gaelic. but it's a lot of work, so don't get mad if i don't get there. pace! peace!]