light from the past illuminates the present, the face of this moment is an explosion. all that we know fit's inside our minds, yet more is unknown outside. light is metaphor, it's not what we think, it's tied to a language we can only navigate with wisdom and knowing, a meditative practice perhaps but it's not simple buddhism or some eastern philosophy, it's the essence of a western tradition we like to reject in our fury and mindlessness. 

here i am bathed in old light, in the garden of an eden, in the temple of this present moment, thinking about nothing in particular. the abyssinian banana plants have such big leaves, they cast a nice shadow where i can sit in my cool spot watching the bees buzz and the big leaves dance over my head. the tiger grass gently configures in its corner as it grows protecting me from the intrusion of some yonder construction.

along i drift, sown streets and alleyways, roads and avenues, shopping malls, churches, farms, winery's, spas and wide empty spaces, sub tropical pockets of bushland and there waiting for me, the waves.