Dying into life

SOC Writing _ 4.6.21

Dying into life

He said those that want to find their life should lose it, those wishing to find life should die. A fuck as a sermon - but a truth in love. A truth in finding and being the deep pit of aliveness – don’t need to listen to their chatter - need to fly the plane – take them somewhere you want to go – where you need to be – pick them up in your waves of love and be perfectly just yourself. In the wedding melee my uncle cajoled me to be the best – to let her know your roar. Fuck him I thought at the time – fuck you uncle – what do you know? Now I sit with cold sea hands and pull in my uncles wisdom – pull in all the wisdom that causes the plane to roar – to be ascendant – to find its full capacity by burning all its resources to get to that one place of joy – the indescribable wedge of freedom in both our hearts David Whyte winsomely pulls me into. The love that requires everything – finding the lease to sign, the roaster to buy that propels you on that never ending story – burns your heart all night with the plan you will live out. And, and still in all this love turmoil – be yourself – shine through brighter and bright – like the the 7AM moon cupped by the unseen sun – but grows dim in Te Ra’s full glow – we must get up early, say hello to the wren, the thrush, the black bird – all the common magic that she talks about – all the pleasure from the every day – from what life is all around – I close my eyes as my daughter launches herself into your embrace – there is so much life I cry inside – there is so much joy pulsating in this room – pounding beats on table, piano and those choppy, foot cutting beautiful floor boards - we are dancing, stepping all over each others feet, fucking up the Charleston – not wanting to be in a ball hall but in life, in love and in a never ending embrace – bracing us for the next.