Mirrors of My Mind

I t is thought somewhere between darkness and light an agreement was reached before time began. The agreement was Good Guys are never to win or be triumphant; their glory lies only in Stage Plays, Movies, Television Shows and Old Westerns. I think they are supposed to always wear white hats, in order to identify the good from the not so good. So far it seems to still stand true. Good Guys loose everyday. I am not sure if the view is different when seen by eyes besides mine but would like to know your opinion. Historically, beginning with the University in Ancient Kemit when books were stolen and the noses of statues were chopped off to emphasize the Good Guys lost.. To times of Knights and Kings when the beautiful Maiden was lost to Knights in not so shining armor. In modern day America I hear too many stories of guys distraught because they were unaware being the good guy was a true test in humility. Fighting diligently but always in a losing effort. Building Cathedrals and Monuments...

We live our lives in rhythm. Not to the beat of drums or songs, our hearts play melodies on strings we are still not sure how they get their fingers there. Music we danced to in past moments resonate with the flavor of the first note kicking memory in high gear. Remembering things and people; happy things, sad moments, times of laughter all rolled up in the beat. Today I ask does music matter? Not in the way spoken of earlier, but that touch making sparks in your heart like a Hendrix lead solo. Making your soul hit those notes only Maxwell and Phillip Bailey could make with clarity. We may call it love when just the thought of one person makes us smile so loud every one around could hear the parting of your lips. That music... The same song that sends us tumbling down invisible stairwells when calls no longer come, and text messages stop. That music..... Tell me what sound you hear when love calls or don't. What music you play to remember. I'll wait, so you can teach me a less...

I wondered how do we get to the point of forgiving being forgetting altogether. I have walked that rugged journey before but the road changes each time you try to visit. Is there a discussion period of the known and unknown problems or do you jump straight to the I'm sorry's? I am not quite sure anymore. Heart strings no longer have that harp sound when played they mimic upright bass with no musical accompaniment. Its hard to dance to but feet move anyway out of wishing, wanting to glide graceful like yesterdays. But can you move forward without bringing up the past? Even if daily those thoughts are regurgitated like arson laced rotten pork, really hard to keep down. These things only matter when love and not moments of lust was the beginning; the forefront of what led to this place, this spot where forgetting is necessary. I have heard the I forgave you for that but if it is brought up in conversations later that has to mean it wasn't forgotten. I am just asking how does i...