Outrageous

SOC Writing _ 11 August 2020

Outrageous

Stop! Let me go – get out of my face! You’re too much for me! Messages, messages, message in a bottle. Your a genie, rub me raw – take the sore spot and let me roar. No, it’s not ok to treat me like this – ignore and furore - the foray into the deep creek of my heartland – the sliver of water carving a current in my underbelly belies the truth of me – under the rough exterior is a soft molten existence, barely touched by another – barely touch by you. And, but, it remains flowing – in convection currents of magma, molten and hot – moving the surface plates to create a shape of the unknown force. Live on the surface, or understand how she is below – the rich and wild world of the understory – the darkness of the motherland where the tripod sits and you, Greek traveller must insert the hidden key into that slot and find yourself liberated – back to the land of the living – upon your quest upon the seas – at times returning home to the fires of your family, then called out again upon the quest of the next half of your life. Oh, oh, how the ocean swells have made me – un made me – maddening, endless days of no squall, no wind, no sail – this oceanic clearing space - this no mans land. Waiting, waiting, wait, I am eating into the fat of my reserves – using up the comfort food to find the learner energy that moves me towards action, towards my own adventure – that which beckons only when she beckons, in right time – perfectly timed with the life force. Associate – disassociate – find your eyes closed and breath quicken – I in me – in you – in all a sore spot of contention, a knot to be massaged out, the wound to be tended – yes, all of these things. And the outrageous becoming of a phoenix rising from the burning wreck of your old life - the ship smouldering in the shallows, washed up now on some distant land.