anthology of family

A group that shares, one unto the other,

experiences portraying, loyalty, trust,

strength, respect, enjoyment, and pain,

sprang from a primitive game. The

enviorment directed; the group inacted

the eternal theme, survival. Gathering

instinctively in what is now called a family.

Male and female urged to mate, so the

species could propagate. The group binds

tightened, gravity like, pulling relatively. A

seemingly infinite process, from the first

living cores, to the present nuclei, a malinia

of suns and moons spun around the earth.

As ripe, red blood rushes through vessels

spawning corpuscles that light your inner

being. So the family process produces

prophetic knowledge to sustain your outer

scene. First lesson is to gain need gratification

through caring intervention. Flailing arms,

kicking feet, mouth wide open crying for

something to eat. "Patient baby, mother's

waiting for the bottle to heat." Lips cornered

up, eyes reflection, father's coming in baby's

direction. See your father, strong with a gentle

hand, that what its like to be a man. See your

mother, soft with a caring smile, that what its

like to be a woman. See their model, behind

them you mimicly follow. Lessoning comes too,

from the dinning table. "Jenny Fuller, our next

door neighbor, whose father is that spectacled tailor,

always helped her parents, always stayed even with

social tenants, married a rich and prosperous

fella; hail the community's Cinderella.

Now family is more to me then knowledge gained

from its company. This occurrence will elaborate

what I mean to communicate. I opened the back

porch door, instantly appearing, a vivid scene that

burned into my memory. The Sun's, golden, brilliant

rays, dripping everywhere from a light blue haze; Ma,

attentive, hands stretched high, hanging white sheets,

billowing with corners flapping, against a soft and

gentle sky. In that eternal tick, I and the Universe

danced a syncopative kick; an extraordinary experience,

a breathless testimony to the wholeness of my

sanctuary, ecstasy at five.

These words nice that sing of family, but how far can

a branch grow on a single tree. Stifled growth,

contorting from brother and sister branches for

aspiring chances. To be the root and trunk and branch

and leaf, is what personality conceives. To fly to the

top most star, unencumbered. Why else are we uniquely

numbered?

Unique is true, but a number gains value from its context

in sequence. What would a twenty two be without a

twenty three? Thus in that stellar, vacumbed trip, a

lingering comptrail will cut and rip, leaving a light years

span between the traveler and his klan. Then when

isolated from life support who will caringly listen to

your troubled report?

Let me grow amid brother and sister branches,

encumbered, but feeling strength in caring numbers,

gaining wheeling power, for dealing with the frustrations

and complications, of life's peregrinations. Like the sap

squirting through a tree, the juice of life is the family.