Solidarity for Spring | 31.11.21
—When I think of the human existance an impeachment of the pain we each go through the word that melts my mind is always the same.— The age in which we go through learns to grow across our steps, we haven’t always seen them as they are now, and for that we are grateful. Some of us have been through more than we could care to share, yet we are still choosing to believe each painful reminder at a time; teaching ourselves our many lives back to our spirt (present), our heart, even our mind our soul our unforgettable home, least we try to remember our self in this presenthood. It is going to be the first day of spring tomorrow. I have been counting the days of my next birth, breathing in another age fills my mind first before it reaches my heart. When I am dremt in milstones I remember just how much of a greeted tone it is to be where I have become it in my world first, which is to say, —I am invisioning my furture as I exhale into my present,— such is the nature of nurturing in the Sping in late November. We are the garden of birth and growth, we seek to heal and bloom wherever it is we please, some will want to give us tangible names call us —the fire of the calm between the oceans.— Which brings me to my next charm, the benevolence of those who think to keep you frozen, those who say snake tongue think to viper your name soil mixed with their spit spiteful and cheap yet we still finding a way to birth the skill of patience, the seasonal bloom is for honest bodies with —inner peace flowering out of their minds, we do not talk about this enough here.—
Melody of Being Animate 