New day, new document.
A fresh start, a corner turned, this is where we are when we decide to be present.
It’s a form of magic, this choice to show up every morning snowballs a day.
Avalanche words, hundreds of thousands of terms to be used and infinite possibilities rearrange to explain and contain the images of our brain.
Let go of the egoic need for it to feed some sense of yourself,
Let go of the need to be confined by grammar and timing,
Sink into the sublime feeling of being the conduit,
Channel the words through you, get your fingers used to tapping out quick,
So you can capture the neuron firings of your mind in a flick.
Throw another log on the morning fire, allow the sunrise to frame my desire for a new day, a now day, the day is now and here I will stay.
Here I will stay to make it what I can.
Here I will be, here I find out who I am.
This Elysium on earth, this potential heaven, here I can assist in the grand experiment to weave, to breathe, to leave the violence of the past behind and find some kind of peace, some abundance for the people here, not extractive practices that leave the soil bare, but working with mother nature, giving her care as she shares her fruit.
The cornucopia of life, we don’t have to live in a structure of strife, rife with inequality.
Covid is the knife that can cut the umbilical cord, no sense in this baby being connected to a dying world.
Don’t judge the words that flow, just let the come and then let them go.
If you take the time to lose your mind you may just find some space to be kind, freedom from the forms that bind you to the ground, spread lines of fire into the sky and sweep your flaming wings up high until you snap the chains that were hidden wrapped around your mind under tarmac and concrete and other peoples eyes.
Anonymous Submission, 2020