Remembering you, Madame VanZanten. You touched my soul

For those of you who knew her, she was the most intriguing complexity and intrigue that ever blessed the sleepy hollow town that fed my formative years. She gave culture and discipline. Hated by the weak at mind, revered by the free.

Rest in peace.

Past coming into present, leaking into the future
Confusing the natural tendency to lean towards sense and order
How few acknowledge we are chasing the dragon
If logic rules and eradicates,
Why is the inductive the root of all haste?
Dreams, love, future, forgiveness, freedom...
All loose change of life that can never become that almighty dollar.
When will we see what we seek is organic
It has no rules, no regulation, no guarantees
The only thing consistent is birth life death
Yet it seems to be what feeds life into the umbilical cord called hope
Subsistance reciprocates dependance

I feel a tad out of place these days.
I'm staring at those I hold dear
Watching the struggle between the heart and the mind
I feel like I'm being guided by the soul of that blessed teacher.
Certainement madame, s'il vous plait. Je voudrais de l'embrace commes des vous
Freshman child looking into the intensity of her eyes
Some moments
Some souls
Penetrate and open your mind to truth
As never told but honered the path I would have to take
I learned the day I looked into her wise eyes intoxicating me with passion for elements outside that fed my passion within
That she told me something on a higher level
I had to let passion guide
Without, I'd be led astray
Find art, philosophy, and honest expression of the body and mind
Find life
That is love
Nothing more
Nothing less
Love