She still talks. Even if it is but a whisper in those days when the mind is constantly talked to, addressed, asked questions that make you turn to matters that are square and have answers.
Her stories are liquid flows, have a hundred different reasons and directions that even open doors and portals to other realms, where logic and science have no place at all, and care not whether we define her or not.
Her story is her own, and she laughs at our space time conclusions. The Cross we seem to bear.
She is always in me, I cannot never forget or leave.
The connection pulls, like the gravity I am trying to dissolve, fixed on the notion those roads will meet and merge, but until then there are greater parts of the puzzle making themsel
They pass me by, all those things not meant for me, shaking things loose yet again, having called in more alignments to embark the journey back into the desert, knowing what I cannot bring with me. The more I get lost in the ways of my ego, the more she calls at me. Making sure, I do not lose my way.
Calling me back to the Path.
The square that hits like the snake I fear will bite at my feet, the interpretation obvious, everything within I project into without, the most basic principle of live in motion. I am you and you are me and we are all together. I unwrap this gift, curious to see what it entails, what it brings, preparing to journey.
Those scripts in me find outlets in certain places, I can never forget my currents. She is phasing and the waves she makes within goes without. I learned to surf, to swim, to tread the waters, to drown and live again. A repetitive cycle within days and the balancing act is to know when to do what with what constellation. It doesn’t scare me at all.
She calls. She invokes. Initiates. Sings me home. She begun telling me a story a long time ago. A very, very long time ago. Of gravitation pulls, rocks, landscape, trees, Earth beings and how it all connects. How it always did. How we sing the same song. Of creation and peace. Of cooperation.
Now she is speeding up her clues, because we are closing in on the time, that does not really exist, only that it does.
For today I am reminded where she is and what I need to do.
The Earth sings.
Spring comes yet again. If you listen to just how eager now the birds are singing. It's the same awakening eagerness in our bones, in our Hearts and souls.