Movement Colors My Mind

One Jewish Folk Struggles (alternative title)

Movement colors my mind. Endless thoughts filter in and out. I try to capture and spin each one... tales of woe and the simple life flow all around. Where have you been? Where are you going? Bubbles noisily all around.

Different hues and tones of voices reach my eyes and ears at once, words barely heard, just sound flowing, flowing in front of, behind and next to me as the river of life engulfs me. Like a rock I sit still, feeling it swirl and eddy around me. Rapids of sound created by my non-movement.

Visions of red, green, grey and blue collide into my eyes, processing signs and symbols, creating more thoughts as each one passes to my left or right while I sit like a rock, still in time. The endless curve and sway of life. Quick, there goes another profound thought just passing me by. I try to reach out for it: "Who are the real Christians?" It begs to be asked. The sign on the side of the road across from the answer: "McDonald's, five miles, next exit on the left."

Passing under, over, through things, this water tickles me, creating rapids of thoughts. Sitting just long enough, this bumpy river will carry me over one thousand miles. Where will I be deposited, in whole pieces? And what did I leave behind in the big, murky, muddy waters of life?

Movement colors my mind.