Forest of imagination

Dylan sings in the distance as my mind carry’s me back to a happy time of growth and discovery I can still clearly see the parties and smell the smoke, sweet smoke that put me deeper into the music, into the times. Small blots of color that melted on my tongue changing the music, changing the everything…

An old dilapidated house next to the college ten, twelve seventeen people living there sharing everything, sharing each other not knowing or caring just doing, and Dylan sings in the distance.

Packing up when summer came around headed to the forest, pitched tents, lost the clothes, journeyed in the night to the next campfire sharing each other, sharing drugs and stories that became songs. Running through the meadows catching fire fly’s in jars and becoming one with them as the acid took its toll for hours to come.

Waking in the meadow staring into the starless sky wanting to see the darkness again but settling for a swim in the gorge the water so loud it seemed like it made the noise twice. Making the way back to our camp naked and dirty and happy…

Music flowed with the smoke each breath taken filled with song and that sweet smell of earth a reason to stay here as long as possible.

So many stories so many people so many searches for one’s self in this forest of imaginations and experimentations. I was a lad of seventeen and never again will be as free both in mind and body. I sometimes wonder if I left my soul there?