What is this wilderness inside?



Keep me sane, keep me connected, keep me satisfied.

I’ve seen great cathedrals, rays of sunshine, fingers of light gliding through rows of your kind. You always make the best of it, in whatever conditions, the grandest of life with the lightest of provisions. You are smooth, you are rough, you are swaying, you stand tough… Sometimes I’m jealous of you.

Sometimes I can’t hear you…

Sometimes, the cars and trains, and the visions of tomorrow are pulling on me and I am wondering how to be a better person. There are so many mysteries, and ways to have a look at it, voices of yesterday, the patterns of today, habits to change that can all get the best of it.



But there you are anyway.

Fearless, beautiful and strong. Features vast and wise, silent and powerful.

I begin to think you and I weren’t made much differently after all.

But still, I am me, and you are you, made unique.

Maybe I will just rest here a minute in the shade of your branches. Maybe we’ll have one of those magical moments when a piece of you falls perfectly into the palm of my hand as I lie here– listening to the wind as it romances the everything in between, all the elements dancing in electric particles of light –at first, I might jump at the touch of you on my skin, but then I’ll smile foolishly as I glance at the sight of your invitation to dance.

To dance… Yes, like dancing particles of light, we will dance.

Like Sufi mystics: You and me, without moving we dance, we are danced, we are the dance.

Without speaking, we fall in Love…

Soon I cannot even see you anymore, but the sight of you is not where we are now.

I do not want you now, and I can’t resist you. But that’s because you are everywhere, and I am there too. Here, in a wave of my own heart, rippling into soft open rings of why I came here in the first place, the rhythm takes my mind into currents of all these wide open spaces where names go unknown and territories have faded.

Once we have learned to listen to you, we reach that consummate joy, that happiness of knowing we are in our perfect place, in the midst of it all. In the center, there is this kind of sight that breathes color, a rainbow liquid life that radiates the passage of time. Every year, another circle. Every year, growing outward and upward with maps of stars and suns and moons guiding our way. We will build temples to house our excitement, as the sun births flowers, seeds, and trees inside spiraling ladders that bring forth new dreams. What a view, what reverie! The clouds fly effortlessly. Smooth blue rivers swirl by, seamlessly sewing the gravity flow of friction and grace. Finding what is profoundly commonplace.

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