SOC Writing _ 22.2.21

 Ground of Being

I had a ground – a place where I belong. It came out when I was born – soul shot to earth from above - a container of love they decided was where my might must reside - alongside a religion to hold me in just the way I was to become – untethered by secular means and wants – though desire birthed in me from the start creating a crack in everything. This birth was not easy nor for my mother – as for me. As above so below and so they story went through blue, red and white to the teenage years of complete despondency. Who was I? Enthralled to this flag and bowing myself low to the pine needles while I felt so terribly unsanctified. In these passing years a tree was unfurling it’s crown - making headway to a greater space – only embracing the divine as trust worthy before a much bigger birthright discovered. In time – times upon times, tears upon anguish, the lad grew up - trusted and was trusted – thrusted himself upon the altar of service and gave himself fully to the god creatures he saw as best he could around him. From time to time others called to him from the underground – tipped their hats and the longing grew for something more mysterious. Something in his body knew what the head had not been taught – the torque in his torso is beginning to wind and poetry is beginning to unravel him – unravel until – until the day decided to step through that crack – and let it all naturally fall away and pursue the brightest day, fall upon the ground and be unmade, unsaid, undone – become none. All the while being carried by greater currents below and above - all the while the child smile grinning – saying more, more, MORE! Please – could it be that I be free and here also the saviour inside me filled with glee