I breathe out and extend flow like water, slow, gentle, steady but a tumult of power a touch of force, muscle supported by the gentle controlled by the spirit with roots to the center of the Earth and limbs stretched to heaven. I imagine a ball and rotate it in my hands as I move as I've moved so long my body remembers but sometimes just forgets. It is nothingness and rock insubstantial like a cloud but as strong as a cloud seems; huge, lumbering with the potential of a million storms and the ability to shake the earth. It is firm persistence a weak retreat slow and powerful the muscles call and perform with simple spirit. My last minutes are cherished for the ball brings joy, and the satisfaction of being in every moment just for every moment is divine. I let my thoughts go and know the peace of health and strength that comes with quiet ponderance. This is a path that leads to a road comprised of circles, never ceasing. No beginning never ends, giving life as water wanders ever moving never done. |
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I have seen the nature of the universe and it is the bark of a tree a twisted line of roots sucking life from piles of lifeless rock It is a plume of feathers on the head of a god or the wing of an angel it is a pile of wheat and the evil in my mind in the end it is nothing at all. |
In the moment one at a time the lines are not lines but leaps and bounds the steps of an infinite staircase skewed to the left and right out of order out of time reasonable nothingness nowhere to go. Gentle force, firm direction look to center turn away. Let it go and be peaceful have the power and patience of a stream of water carried from the top of a mountain which carves a canyon in the gray stability of granite. I am the stream sometimes tides misdirect me and sometimes people, not thinking throw a rock or two to make waves but I will still flow on and my canyon will be carved it will span miles and centuries and its walls will hold transcriptions carved from the matter of my mind. |
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The snow takes its time it falls without a schedule without a watch to structure its life it lives in virtual silence and robs the world of sound crystals cross and glisten but run away at the touch of my finger leaving a puddle of invisibility and a feeling that something infinite has died in my hand. |
Water, giver of life flows unstoppable and seeps to the corners of our world. Inspiration is as water; a calling which permeates the soul and which takes one's life on the crest of a wave. we try to contain it but there is no dam strong enough no place in your being which doesn't feel it. denying one's path is like denying rainfall you think you can escape, but you are going to get wet. |
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