Image by kenne
There stands the remains
of a hopeless battle
watched over by
the ghost of Don Quixote.
Although the ghost whispers
are never heard,
try as I may to distinguish
between fantasy and reality,
every windmill stands in the shadow
of the ghost of Don Quixote
giving this tool of man a human spirit
leaving us to decide
which is the ideal vision –
the practical but mundane
image of a windmill,
or that of the romantic dreamer
of the impossible dream –
in the end, we all see only
what we wish to see.
— kenne
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Becoming is Superior to Being 
Ahh, but I beg to differ….Keene, we are fortunate to have visionairies show us wonders and truths we might never fathom even exist without those who tilt at windmills. I believe we need the ones that see aversaries to conquer among the whooshing whispers of the ghosts that lay veils of lies tween us and truth. Not all are immune to being shown. Thank goodness.
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Reblogged this on Becoming is Superior to Being and commented:
I have always had a Don Quixote complex in that I love windmills, and I’m a dreamer; however, it is not the impossible. Somewhere in a big box of Kodak carousel trays containing many slides of windmills taken long ago (1968) during my first visit to southeast Arizona. — kenne
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