Yup, uh-huh, I did and you know it and I think that's OK

So we’re still looking for a beginning, keep that in mind.
For something to exist it would seem that, at some point in time, it began. Perhaps on a syntactical loophole that sentence should be true. The key word though is time. “At some point in time.” This is to some degree true. Time is the limit of human experience. No, it is the limit of the scientific explanation of human existence and our relationship with the world around us.
The world that gets paid far too little attention though, is the world inside us. The world inside us is accessible to all as a gift, perhaps a curse, but either way a principal sent directly from God, to help you and I find our way home....

*

AS I PONDER'D IN SILENCE.
Walt Whitman

As I ponder'd in silence,
Returning upon my poems, considering, lingering long,
A Phantom arose before me with distrustful aspect,
Terrible in beauty, age, and power,
The genius of poets of old lands,
As to me directing like flame its eyes,
With finger pointing to many immortal songs,
And menacing voice, What singest thou? it said,
Know'st thou not there is but one theme for ever-enduring bards?
And that is the theme of War, the fortune of battles,
The making of perfect soldiers.

Be it so, then I answered,
I too haughty Shade also sing war, and a longer and greater one
than any,
Waged in my book with varying fortune, with flight, advance and
retreat, victory deferr'd and wavering,
(Yet methinks certain, or as good as certain, at the last,) the field
the world,
For life and death, for the Body and for the eternal Soul,
Lo, I too am come, chanting the chant of battles,
I above all promote brave soldiers.

*



Poncho and Lefty
Willie Nelson and Merle Haggard


Livin' on the road my friend, is gonna keep you free and clean
And now you wear your skin like iron, and your breath is hard as kerosene
Weren't you mamma's only boy-oy, her favourite one it seems
She began to cry when you said, good-bye, sank to your dream

Poncho was a bandit boy, his horse was fast as polished steel
He wore his gun outside his pants, for all the honest world to feel
Poncho met his match, you know, on the deserts down in Mexico
Nobody heard his dyin' word, but that's the way it goes

All the Federales, they say
They could have had him any day
They only let him slip a-away
Out of kindness I suppose

Lefty he can't sing the blues, all night long like he used to
The dust that Poncho bit down south, ended up in Lefty's mouth
The day they lay poor Poncho low, Lefty split for Ohio
Where he got the bread to go, there ain't nobody knows

All the Federales they say-ay
We could have had him any day
We only let him slip a-away
Out of kindness I suppose

The poets tell how Poncho fe-ell, and Lefty's livin' in cheap hote-els
The desert's quiet, Cleveland's cold, and so the story ends we're told
Poncho needs your prayers, it's true, save a few for Lefty too
He only did what he had to do, and now he's growin' old

All the Federales, they say
We could have had him any day
They only let him go so-o long
Out of kindness I suppose

A few grey Federales, they say-ay-ay
We could have had him any day
We only let him go so-o long
Out of kindness I suppose