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as if you were a cave
as if you were a mountain
Kneel down to yourself
and collect yourself as if you were a precious stone
on the roadside, of the journey towards your heart
Now, you hear drums in the distance…
A familiar sound…
it’s your heart beating a welcome back song
A crack in the mind…
Climb down the shaft
Where you once hid and laughed
Alone expecting predators
Alone hoping for prey
Alone and resisting visitors
That came dangling down to play
You sat but made no fire
You rested but had no healing
What is this holding back from the adventure of living
Is it cowardice…?
Or an all too familiar pain saying
“Please don’t leave me?”
Go down and harness
those hidden winds, in the hidden caverns;
they are your forgotten vitality
Look to find treasures unexpected,
hidden in darkness with things rejected
See your fault lines?
hold tight, and the quakes too shall pass
You are always growing and shaking yourself asunder,
whether you know it or not
The waves of the ocean
of forgotten promises, broken promises…
they rise and fall, rise and fall
tumbling in all too familiar complaints of who was thrown in
before learning how to swim
“Take back your conqueror notions…” they say
“of traversing in confidence this grand old ocean!”
The rains that flood and bring the freaks
Soon come out to play
Ride through the storm… ride through
No need for an hourglass fort, when the hill is already taken
and there’s nothing left on top to report
when the battle with time is forsaken…
Pithy things to say to an old man in a young fool’s body
Pity stings those who would laugh and tumble for a different hobby, each and every day
Have you enough things to do without really grinding any stone?
The waves of the ocean, once again…
washing away footprints, the ones that had to put themselves down
the water dismissing them rightly…lightly…ever so lightly
the waves tumble like opinions...
the spray from their crests amounts only to the height of the lighthouse door
stay safe inside and hope for a sign, of calmer waves on calmer shores
the waves crash like opinions stronger now…
let them be so...
let them be so
All grows back to quiet, slows down into sacred silence
The sea breeze, like whispers rolling off the tongue of God,
compliments the sand dollars
"no incentive, no spare change needed here," they say
everything is always changing microscopic
When you have waited for the storm to pass
Sit beneath the tree that grows
from out of that which once hurt...
and in doing so, you will have reached the source...
for you will have sought out your own standing-strong meaning
you will have sought out truth