For now, what is now: I methodically work my way from floor to feet, now bent in half with arms crossed, hanging lifelessly below my head and I feel lifetimes drip from my spine, falling through crown, cascading over my arms like water plummeting over the edge of a cliff and then collecting below me. I can feel the fog lift from the softly worn pine floor and try to climb my arms like a ladder and crawl back into my head so I shore up the opening by stacking one vertebrae on top of the other until clarity becomes me. I float into tree standing tall, but fragile granting myself permission to gently move back and forth in the mind’s wind and it’s here in this sway that I realize nothing matters beyond focus and so what’s in focus right at this very moment is everything and in the next breath, nothing. In this circle where the beginning always greets the end and the end always greets the beginning there can never be anything other than what is now. traceyselingo/journal/2014/what-is-now
Posted on: Wed, 12 Nov 2014 14:31:06 +0000
Trending Topics
Recently Viewed Topics
© 2015