conflict is not always an answer

it is easy to feel wronged .. or on the verse, to call yourself so & make it that the wind would still plant its seeds, howling not only in the night

there are the rare strings that have been taken from the same spool, that in mirrored looking, see a semblance or that perhaps their threading shares the same pattern so that in seeing them we are as renewed as the wave onto shore that then casts its way out to the deep waters of sea, not beckoning for land, but rather resting in its lap, back and forth, the wayfaring sea people & those who pour into it plastic without respite .. perhaps not seen as the treacher but hidden within the long forgotten treasure

most are quite different, some we cannot understand, and perhaps some are not of the same string or even same spool, and yet because they live and because they either question or do not, they call this thing their life and to them, it has just as much meaning as does ours, as the sun itself, and the rain, and as a voice of question we are not always to hammer in the nail but to rather see the nails and the hammers and what the nails might bring together

a voice does not always need answering, but a voice will always be a call or the wind that won't whisper, it will still shiver your body as it passes by

conflict is not always an agreement, it is not always an answer or a solution, rather it is something that is so soft it allows itself to be seen and to see, that in sharing without the expected result, or in seeing the whisper of something deeper behind its spoken words, we begin to see people and we see ourselves, and the arms open wider so that it might include it all

copyright 2018 ⓒ / forrest gallagher