From Sparkling Wine to Sour Grapes

From sparkling wine to sour grapes lingering too long in my feeling, she escapes back to the world of her true reality. I move on, connecting to the light. Rainbow visions in Chinese evenings, gently aware of where the sun has gone to rest, and life begins to recline. There are sparks on the horizon and the waves cascade on the watching ocean. Extravagant colours in changing patterns, awing and provoking creation, having nowhere to rest and seeking toward infinity,new lighting is given to all of experience where understanding isn't prepared to settle on. A world explodes, it will not give its secrets. It will look you in the eye urging activity. And in the intensity,spirit is in the air, married to soul, and there are no such things as answers, only solutions to inactivity. The world is a ball of fire, ever changing in colours of insanity and expression. People pray to Gods they have never known, and they pray within to their soul in discomfort from not being able to face the truth of themselves, for fear that this particular vanity might be going a little too far. And in this wonderland magic can be the only thing obvious, to attain. And how could magic be 'an only thing?' and indeed a thing? Eyes collide with visions of dream and reality, the temporary and the old. History has only itself to blame for being certain. Truth knows better and deals not in delusion. Truth is quiet within itself and accepts itself inviting visitation.