I've been hiking around this place a little more lately. Trying to be like the music of J. S. Bach--full of perpetual motion, fluid emotion (just noticed the motion in e-motion. Very cool!) but never stopping in one place for long.
I've been hot and sweaty, but moving all the same. No seeking refuge indoors. Something is drawing me out, listening to the percussion of feet stepping through substance, deliciously tactile with jagged rock and dust.
I'm ready to write about it here--to use this place as it was meant to be used, as my blank canvas, but with no promises, just one foot in front of the other.
I've spoken of Mt. Heaven. Seems it is pretty famous here. When in doubt, one is reminded to look outside, and see that heaven does indeed exist on earth.
In my travels around this place, I've seen some mighty interesting sights.
A winding river, glistening in the sun, paving its own path. From the heights of Mt. Heaven, it looks like a snake coiling below, makes you pay attention--wait for its bite--heavy medicine, but necessary--especially at this time for me, when so much just wants to be experienced and then released, to make way for the new. I'd say I'm kind of becoming adept, but something always keeps me humble. At the least the commitment is the shedding of old, to birth the new.
The most enigmatic thing I've come across is some old farm equipment, with a tree growing up right through the center, right up into the gears.
Poetry to behold. Of all the places for a sapling to spring up, right in the middle of a machine, as if its curiosity got the best of it. Or is it nature and man, finally making peace with one another. Or is it nature sprouting itself in man's run for progress, covering up the blemishes. So many possibilities, but it doesn't matter much.
I can hear a rumbling underneath the earth as I walk. Refrains of so much fighting. Sometimes it sounds like two little girls--sisters.
Maybe they are trying to make their way as saplings up through the obsolete machinery. Maybe my trunk is stuck in my own, so that I can't quite reach out to them, to show them the way to the light.
Oh, well, might as well keep my sight focused down river, such gorgeous blue, such open sky. There is plenty of space for all of it.