Hey, How’s It Goin?
The stream flows by and so are you. The sun is sky and so is blue. Transcendence, won’t you come out to play? Lost in song where is the day headed this day? We shan’t not know until the go. It is time.
The time of the day when we know and go. When we go without know. When we know without go. When we flow despite our damns and blocks and knowing otherwise. When we stumble upon the harmonic note and accidentally voice the song within. And …. she’s gone. Lost in time, lost in the recesses of the mind. The timeless recedes. Conceding to the flow of the other. Ebbing as it may. Sent from the realms of the gods, the places for which we have no names, the places we imagine exist, inhabited by beings far greater than our mere self. Places of awe, places of holy, places of the divine, places we deem ourself unworthy to contain yet a small glance reveals that to be precisely the case.
We shall not wander, yet we shall wander. The flow is ours whether we see or conceal or turn a blind eye or awaken pulled in as if by torrent. Or so it seems. Seems to us in this waking dream this dreaming awake this vivid reality we know as that which is real is merely a perspective gleened from all of existence sheer’d through the pinhole of this body being.
l&h&m,
~ Michelle