Still moving

I am still tempted to write an environmental post especially for those of you looking to find homes in the area. I have nothing to sell, but 29 years of environmental work makes me kind of an expert in the field. Okay, THE expert in the field, but not yet.
A quote from on of the blogs of note:
A musician must make music, a painter must paint, a poet must write if he is to be ultimately at peace with himself. What one can be, one must be.

--Abraham Maslow

Has set me on my blogging path, continuing a diatribe that I started the other day. In me lives the poet (hidden for many years, but it was there), the painter (it is back), the cook (okay, at home chef), the investigator, the scientist, the tinkerer and all the other things that are screaming to burst out and exist. To beauty exists in each thing I now encounter and my expression of them are out of control.
Again I am amazed.

Wat is Happening to me?

I am bewildered,
things that I thought long dormant or gone from my life come streaming back.
I wake up in verse, wanting to write it and of course I turn here.
I want to paint, create, meet people, be with friends.
My God, has this long shell of isolation I have forced myself to live in for many years been broken?
If I work to look, I would say that the right side of my brain has awakened from a long slumber.
As a man, to feel the rush of emotional views is worrisome, but I check, I am still a man.
The dry wit is still there, the calculus and the science, the analytical thought,
but it is joined by waves of feelings and of perspectives of feeling.
A friend came by and called me a Renaissance man,
but that was before and it was only by what he could see...
Art, science, care blending in one person.
I was not yet feeling the way I am,
Now it would be ture, for there is a true blending of my heart, my mind and my soul.

Butterflies

One of the things I love is butterflies and some remind me in many ways of a butterfly, not at all in a negative way, but I'll relate to that in a minute. I tried to tell them, but used other words that didn't fit.

Butterflies
Beautiful to see, they seem to flit from place to place, but you must look closer.
They touch each place gently, carefully, even sweetly.
They never harm the place they touch, but rather bring a gift of life to each spot.
Those places gladly give back a bit of nourishment for the presence ,
Ah my friend, you are a butterfly, I am glad you stopped by.

Stars

I went out for a walk (with David) to the Mall for a walk and a haircut (I haven't had one since July and I found out that the body kind of shuts down after a shock) and a visit to my bank. I ran into people who have not seen me since July and found out that i was missed! Each of these people (even the ones with not so good reputations) came up to me, greeted me, asked where I have been and what happened. Some of them, who were working, went out of their way to see me. I sometimes am amazed by these positive responses, I consider these people stars in my universe, shinning brightly, giving light and being light. Again i say I am amazed and feel fortunate to know these people.

Being creative

After reading a blog of someone who has been very supportive during my adventure, I decided to be a bit creative. Her blog sometimes feels like poetry and here goes my clumsy attempt:
My fortress stands tall, the ramparts are strong and deep.
Darkness of clouds and storm are all about.
No comings and goings without my say, but in the stillness of the night or day I send a plea,
a message posted for all to see.
To my surprise, streams of light flow back,
those I have met and those I have not send messages back and the storms and clouds cease to be.

Sorry, but it seems that there is a creative side that some times must be released. I hope my metaphors of blogging aren't to transparent.