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The Way Things Work | Tomorrow

 Tomorrow, in spite of all that is holy, the manifestation of today, regardless of whether we know it or not, is spawned from our weary minds. Thrust into the ether, caught by the down draft or a jet stream, a cold front or other meteorological phenomenon, the thoughts are given shape, like rain drops, vacuum sealed into the clouds. When the worries, concerns, hopes, fears, anecdotes, and wishes get too heavy, they burst the hermetically sealed cloud of mental murmurings to cascade upon us in the form of tomorrow, today. Isn't there a moment of solitude? A moment when the mind frees itself of the undying churning, the revolution of the cosmic washing machine, pauses itself and gives way to pure silence; snow blanketed fields untouched.  Seldom do these moments materialize. Because the materialization, in and of itself is the deafening vacuum that is space. So silent it bursts ear drums and cracks window panes. In the fissures are trapped our screams and yells, sealed into a molten