The river runs

SOC Writing _ 29.6.21

The river runs

When in flood, the river runs – over rocks and canyon – making a spectacle of itself – blues and greens and froth and frolic – the way water leaps and jumps when given its freedom yet held in the canyon in the way it is use to – has been carving out its own container for time and immortal – this way of water in my life gushing forth now at a time of abundance – where life and movement are one – where the crystal see - through nature of everything is coming to pass – I can see your blue cracking eyes now up in the swing and merry merry go round of this thing we have both crafted for ourselves.  I am so proud of us – the way we swing forth into each other – and make our way into the world – together - yet apart – together and apart to see the world as through new eyes and call in exactly what we want as if it never was – a beckoning forth of a time and space perfectly suited and fitted to our souls – own bodies and our preparing futures – a year of intensity and a year coming of inheritance – the world moves beneath and around the stars that act like our satellites – both sensing further on and further in – but also as us – not just a long way off – in us and breathing as cosmic quantum matter does – in and out breath – as your towering ivory does its balancing act upon your mat – the pace of the yogi at your own pace and timbre – the tick tock of my mental clock calling at me from the walls since I was a child – reminds me of the quantum nature of my life – how what Newton told us does not apply beyond the thousandth of a inch – there – beyond there is a world of turning that is intimate and wild – like the mad hatters tea party – like Alice eating both sides of the mushroom – we – you and I go down this rabbit hole gleefully, joyfully and fully – fully, thickly and in it – so in it – this life – this fucking joyous ride we have both consented to.