SOFT ZONE DRIFT

SOFT ZONE DRIFT


 

I am trying to discover what this means to me, in terms of event details.  Soft Zone Drift.  Of course I need to pick the proper words and grammar usage, but there comes a time when drift as in white snow over the northern plains is apropos.  From where I sit, it is furious speculation that this has anything to do with you, specifically because I don’t know you, don’t know where you are, and even more so, have no clue if you get my drift.  





In my defense, going soft is not what I do, but ice cream melts and feelings make you soft, regardless of flavor or what it costs at the dry cleaning shop to remove the stains of life.  Peaches and Cream, and I wonder about you as you approach me, and I ask myself, "Will I Get Lucky."  A couple of inches make a difference, but that is not what this is all about.  Settling in the Strike Zone.  Wondering how it will be today, out and about and knowing that each day has a soft zone, where observations make a difference and you and I are slowly moving towards each other.  Not exactly slow dance, but in the quiet of my mind, I imagine it so.   Soft Zone Drift.  My topic for today.


 

Lilac in the mist and how does it make you feel?  It is okay to be friendly, but if you have ever been kicked by a horse, you know to keep your distance.  Leveraging ones position to define and take advantage of the assets that are around you, once in a blue moon and deep into the night, I follow you and hope for everything, from A to Z.  Being with the one that is perfect for you is an art form that needs to be perfected in real time.  Thinking about it too much, makes you soft and vulnerable.  



 

Daydreams and products of the mind do no harm if left in a vacuum, but then again this is the real world, and I have been scared by the likes of you, even when officially we have never met, nor kissed or had the pleasure of the  soft zone drift.  Lilac in the mist and we need to discover if we leave it where it is, or take it home.  Trading and swapping particulars, I want to know if any of this would be good for me.  Caught in the moment.  Hoping it will last the night, and later we could laugh about it when asked, "So how did you meet?  "







Getting a second opinion seems appropriate, and yet it seems like a take it or leave it moment and situation, with clock ticking and things moving forward on its own terms, not of my control or choosing.  So what?  How important is just one flower.  Lilac in the mist.  Was it really there, or was in just something manufactured in the mind, and lost in translation as it came into my world, fragile and vulnerable, much like me.  Without you, what is the next big thing for me.

  I wonder.  







 

What is the point when the soft zone drift repeats, and winter returns.  Cold and Chill and an icy fall onto the pavement.  Knock Out.  Concussion.  Not sure, the game we are playing.  But it hurts.  Not looking for a theory that explains how this happens to me, over and over again.  Phenomena Unexplained.  Serious Relationship and it happens.    Plate Tectonics and Sensual Touching.  A shift of time and place and perspective leaves me wondering if this really happened as a precursor to love and romance and affection, seriously displaced.  A product of the mind.  Lilac in the mist reality.  Mind’s Eye Refraction and now Jupiter Rings and Outer Space, and the possibilities are endless.  In The Soft Zone.







And so it is, I want to ask, "Are we okay?"  Second Opinion or not, is best to remember if you have ever been kicked by horse, it hurts and if its just bone, it will repair and mend.  But kicked in the head is something different.  Calls for ultra respect and caution, if again you find yourself out there, in a soft white dusting that touches you and turns you cold and unresponsive.  Mother Nature and the call of the wild.  Side by Side, and calling to you. 
Now Touching.  







Soft Speak.  Slow movement.   Monumental Freezing.  Inviting us to proceed into the danger zone where matter meets mind, I regress.  It won’t be allowed.  Not this time, I won’t make the same mistake twice.  Kicked by a horse.  And she leans over you, like a lilac in the mist, asking, "Are you okay?"  And the truth is, you just don’t know in the moment of soft zone drift and your heart is bleeding.  Is it love? 
Is it death? Or both?  Universal Truth and we belong together. 

But Where?