Stag In The Woods

With Blind Faith And A Bohemian Heart

I realized the strangest thing after ditching D3, I was happier. He began as a Crossroads Man, and that I fear he shall remain.

Perhaps a lesson? Always. Everyone they say you meet is in some way a lesson…if we choose to see it that way. My sensual Leo nature purred, and I learned somewhere along the way in my travels that I’d gained a clearer sense of self. I understand better that which pulses, and moves me, in relation to that organ within my chest, and that they may not be separated.

I was myself this time, and I remained so. Where I admired the original condition, he took those trees and made them into furniture.

I raged if I wanted, whined, I loved whole heartedly, and told the truth, again and again. I did the wrong, thing, said the wrong thing, felt the wrong things. It was wonderful to just let myself go and be free. Just be me. Imperfect, flawed, passionate, weird, dreamy, intellectual me.

I still took long walks within my woods, my loving canine by my side, snap happy and walking amongst the wild. Or alone, aglow in the late afternoon sunshine, wistfully gazing up into the canopy of that Black Walnut that draps its zig-zagginess above my secret garden.

Sometimes, but only sometimes, I think I just catch something out the corner of my eye, there then gone. Fairies? Spirits? Merely a figment? Who knows, but I prefer to believe it be the first two.

Upon those walks, within the wild, I sometimes come upon the most beautiful things. Like the day those two stags appeared on the trail before me. And we three stood and stared at one another, as Irish sniffed some dog pee on the ground, oblivious to their presence. For three, maybe four whole minutes the trio of us stood there and stared into the eyes of the other.

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Stags In The Woods

The next day I came upon the pair of them again, and a flash of recognition came between us, and I watched as they gently leapt away along the other way, as there was a fork in the path. I let them be.

Powerful mojo that. Or the day standing in the driveway at D3’s, and this strange & solitary Tiger Swallowtail butterfly took a shine to me, and danced around my head. The next day I watched as three Cardinals whirled and squawked away at one another too. It happened in a flash, and they raced away up into the leaning Cedar that graces that Crossroad Man’s backyard.

Oh, I love that Hurley-burley wild sometimes, and I feel happiest when its near.

The other day, along the Thames that winds its away through this London Town, I stood underneath the weeping willow, and I closed my eyes, and soaked in the spirit of the place.

I realized at some point along that walk I took before I ditched D3, that I NEED to walk, I NEED to write, I NEED to capture moments, on my own, for now. So when I decided to go part-time at work, to pick up shifts here, or just let it be, the plan man, was to give myself back a sense of control.

I …

Desired, wanted, realized these things where more important. That by partaking in THESE things, I could…become.

Become what? Will see I guess. Perhaps just poor, but we will see.

So perhaps that Crossroads Man was indeed just a passing fancy, or a way to make the journey towards this thing that I am becoming alittle clearer.

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