SOC Writing _ 18.4.21

Given to Fly

And fly across he must, for as the day turns to dust he has transformed – like a transformer – run, pop and not stop - his only haze these days is the fraught look upon others faces as he is moving, always moving towards the work of being authentically in his own experience – the other used to be his mother – used to care and get lost in the other and not know where he began and ended. These days are thankfully passing and soon – just over the new moon – something entirely new will begin – a building towards a whole new future on the basis of, on the foundation of his own truthful experience – say nothing of what God wants or thinks – for truly, the Christian life taught him how to continually out source his body and feelings to something called divinity – to not feel – but transmute those big issues to Christ – to the Abba Father – and how did that work out for you? Terribly – not connected to self – and ill – connected to others – able only to predict behaviour, not be in my own behaviour – wanting others to read his mind – like God could – wanting to be cosmic, quantum entangled - but this work cannot begin when the body is shamed – when everything that arises is derided and so so shamed. Now – in this new day – the birds are at play amongst this hair – the figs are red and lush and the feijoa tree has plumped out her fruit to the highest degree – all things sing for thee – all things want your delight – want to feel your beast come hither – and hot breath upon the collar – this is a new arising of astounding value – the cross now a distant memory – the mother still needing some coldness, the lover breathing heavily upon you – seems fitting – seems appropriate for you are doing the work – you have not laid down your sword – you are lighting up, you are powerful – you have struck a deal with God, the devil and everything in between, and are winning