Semi-Daily Scribbles

Many an evening I spent on the balcony looking out for the lights. Some hovered and shimmered just beyond my reach. Others were a maddening mirage that made me doubt my eyes. And my sanity. My favorites were the soft pink spirals, like tiny conch shells, that pulsated with insistent rhythm above my head. It wasn’t merely the pretty shapes and colors that captivated me. With the nighttime light show came music, too. The sound that accompanied the color was no song that I could recreate for you. There is no tune to be hummed. Rather, a string of staccato notes punctuated the odd flow of poetry that filled the sparkling night. I never took to the balcony without pencil and paper. It was important to chronicle the mysterious sights and sounds, though I didn’t know why exactly. I thought there was a message worth repeating whenever the lights came around. I may someday find a way through the maze. In the meantime I keep these words in my journal:

Grease the Axis with half a pulse and something of a soul
The Late Heavy Bombardment
Die Zwei Hunde
I am a weapon
Impressive Rampage