Life is uncanny.
I'm not quite sure what is happening here.
Major shifts are abrewing.
I can feel it in the high desert air. I can hear it in the company of trees. I can see it in the zipping sound of the Black-Chinned Hummingbirds passing by.
This internal process is exponentially increasing.
As i begin the journey alongside the moving mountains of timeless beings, i'm realizing that all the wisdom i need is carried in those places i fear.
Like in the wild.
Like in the darkness.
All the secrets of existence are kept in there for safekeeping.
Seems like a sort of self-preservation.
An act worth studying.
Venturing into these places unfurls untold stories.
Mounting the horse and riding towards sunsets grace with fierce determination to survive.
Its the will to be.
To simply allow all there is compassing my world to penetrate even deeper this time.
Look up to Polaris for celestial north. Even beyond.
In the cave of boundless beauty and tragedy sits a crevice full of those who came before me.
Paving the way under season upon season of snow is a path
A moving path passing through all i thought i once knew.
Moving mountains before me, swelling oceans circumscribe.
Studying this 1,400-million year-old granite that i sit upon
Listening to the story of the returning sea
280 million years my ancestor.
Timeless resistance beckoning me back to original source
Like a fawn, standing for the first time, without mother, in a meadow full of wildflowers and butterflies