trees_trail

May 2015, Scotland

Tomorrow, I will ground farther into the woods. I will make my way farther into the sky. Where horses are blades of grass and the ancient temples sing with copper and stone. We are further into this, you and I, than we would have thought. This is not thinking. This is openness.

I walked around my neighborhood today, porous as a sponge. The street flooded with light, like a stream. The sun and a low plane.

Things in life are stilling, even as they move, as becoming still, how much movement there is in sleep, or ice, or soil. There are so many microscopies, like hidden words, hidden language. We move towards each other in ever hastening circles. We cast our lines into the water. We move about our homes. We ask for repetition and dew. We hold our hands out to receive and be with the open. The open land and open tongue and open language. Things–everything we see–is so beautiful. We remain perched as held by this knowing, that all we can imagine is brought forth in matter.

Held in open language, as held in water, the stunning continues, after and after another of sweet roses with wings halt and burst into flame, becoming ether or dust or weather.

It matters: we solidify into form. Our necks, our snakes into ether and body. We matter then extinguish. Fully in the belly of becoming. Cauldron.

We are orbits of each other, down here in the vast depths. We know each other like fire, like ash.

We are pronounced to each other as hearts beating in concascadent rhythm.

I will wake early tomorrow and the sun will be out.

I will sleep deeply in my bed, surrounded by the atoms of you.

We come back to ourselves as to each other as the Beloved.

loch_katrin?

Loch Venachar, Scotland

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