The day has a voice, I suppose. But mine’s louder, more rhymes and with more wander and beaming momentum, notice. So, I give it notice, put it on notice, that I’m not interested in what it intends. I decide the rhythm and the song to be played, what I recite and the pace of such. My ways are must, necessitated and in the moment, not at all pre-meditated. For the most part.
Today, all parts of it, scenes and Roads, need know that I’m conducting. My voice is loving, but assertive. And here I go…. There is no decision to be made, not that I’ve already made one. I’m simply moving, deciding. The notice, Monday.