THE GOLDEN THREAD
August 5 ,2015
Birmingham
Dawn is breaking and night has once again performed it's magic. The barriers are down... the mind's mason is fast asleep... but soon a day of building walls begins again. For now, I am freed from that maze of ME. I can wander in the darkness and never nudge those walls.
In the early morning all of mans' inventions to divide us from our common flow have yet to feel the call of day. In this new made world, the magnificent oneness ...the connection to all of life... is there for me to see. It glitters in the sun...a thin and golden thread . Grasping hold I rise up with the Canada geese, feel the tug that forms the V and the urge to cross the sky. I am the lift of air that, partnered with those wings, propels me toward the future. I am the swishing sound created from that partnership, reassuring in it's strength and purpose.
The momentum changes throughout the day. Invented busyness obscures the early morning lessons and the walls go up. Wrapped in an insular existence...my fingers open, my heart not so much and the thread of gold starts to slip. Then suddenly in another being, I catch that golden glimmer and my awareness shifts...the thread is still within my grasp. I regret the hours lost between the knowing and once again remembering but console myself. Tomorrow the walls will be lower still and the thread wrapped more tightly 'round my finger.
August 5 ,2015
Birmingham
Dawn is breaking and night has once again performed it's magic. The barriers are down... the mind's mason is fast asleep... but soon a day of building walls begins again. For now, I am freed from that maze of ME. I can wander in the darkness and never nudge those walls.
In the early morning all of mans' inventions to divide us from our common flow have yet to feel the call of day. In this new made world, the magnificent oneness ...the connection to all of life... is there for me to see. It glitters in the sun...a thin and golden thread . Grasping hold I rise up with the Canada geese, feel the tug that forms the V and the urge to cross the sky. I am the lift of air that, partnered with those wings, propels me toward the future. I am the swishing sound created from that partnership, reassuring in it's strength and purpose.
The momentum changes throughout the day. Invented busyness obscures the early morning lessons and the walls go up. Wrapped in an insular existence...my fingers open, my heart not so much and the thread of gold starts to slip. Then suddenly in another being, I catch that golden glimmer and my awareness shifts...the thread is still within my grasp. I regret the hours lost between the knowing and once again remembering but console myself. Tomorrow the walls will be lower still and the thread wrapped more tightly 'round my finger.
