Patience and compassion does nothing for you here. These things, in the world of metal, get you stuck, taken advantage of. Individualism at best. Lone wolf. Out for yourself. Don’t give two —-. Rockin’ by yourself. Needing to get where you need to go, now, in the exact way you want, when you want and how you want.
Spark of creativity, inspiration. The moment you know what you need to do. Fire becomes a place of warmth we gather round like we do ideas.
Yet emotions flow like water, flexible and giving, like an amoeba. Maybe a water moccasin.
Spiritually and emotionally, our selves feel at one moment a babbling brook, calm lake, roaring river undulating waves drawing itself in before heaving down upon oneself.
As the bird pushed from the nest to know how to fly, it then spends its days soaring instead of falling, without flapping any wing it soars without moving an inch.
Lofty, a place for our intellectual selves, to sit on a cloud feeling the air rush through your fingertips and bristle your hair.
It’s a place we should not stay long. Overstaying welcome leads to lacking.
Here, the earth comes in to draw our feet down and root. If I close my eyes I can feel myself plunged into the dirt. Roots going deep, far and wide. Intricate details only my ancestors can travel on. With every step I pull them. Molasses stringing and quicksand weighing.
This is my power, freedom, unity.
Unity with others. The tools of relationships with others we weave with the perfection of a spider. This place is not mindmeld. Pouring ourselves into one mold. One melting pot. No.
It’s a pot that does not melt. A container that holds us all uniquely together. Water overflows from this container unable to retain and beckoning us on a journey together.
I felt like I was trying to tell myself something. But what was that something? It escapes me like my cat’s hair collecting in corners.
Between dusty mountains, sage brush and rivers. Hours pass over hours. I melt into the dirt with arms outstretched. Wind coursing and gliding through me. Energy flows from fingertips to mountains. Connected. Compassion grows knowing I have all the tools within. Speed slows.
Music turned up. Connected to those in front and behind. I do not care to take part in your state, individualism, your hate, selfishness. I turn the music up and gaze at the morning sun against the dirt mountains.