| In the
mill of my mind, crushing beneath the stone of
cerebration; the harsh factors of this life, producing something of sustenance. Yet; that which thinks, so limited by the words to let it be known. Insanities seeping into our lives, by misrepresentation. The mill is crushing, separating use-and-useless things; each in its own place. The vast amount of data, analyzed; datum-by-datum, bit-by-bit. For somewhere, it should fit. Each fact, filed in a designated spot; allowing for cross-referencing. So, here I am… positioned to view my subject from the aspect I have chosen. Focused; I boot my thoughts, savoring the products of The Mill. I pull a string until all the relevant facts are before me; and think. Then… I move my chair, maybe to where you would be; pull the string and THINK! As time goes by, I shift my position many times; until finally, I meet the start again. I go silent, reach deep within; joining the dots across a millennium or more. The Wind Mill is grinding, powered by winds of need, its weight too much to bear. This multi-viewpoint mentation of the careful collated factual information; seems fair. The crisscross string across the floor, lengthy enough to tie down a star. Then… I access the caring love I have inside, and FEEL; what would best for all. Still the crushing in The Wind Mill of my Mind, whilst the winds of Need blow. I cherish my heart and permit it to sample love as much I can as payment for its strain. All along I am collecting data from all across the world. I am growing weary, faster still under the wear-and-tear of ponder. Letter-by-letter the product role, cemented in a World Wide Web. I will face the fate of which all men perish, maybe a little sooner than I please. But my inferences will stay behind, in service of those God chooses to LOVE. |
| By : Thys Groesbeek |