Maybe as we continue to wade out with no destination in mind the metallic, lucent green clear-like aquamarine slaps against our skin before bubbling to the shore in a lavender froth. We look into each other’s eyes and find the water there speaking to us via its flash and gleam. Just as we breathe without thinking.
Saturday, January 28, 2017
Saturday, January 21, 2017
Perhaps mind is the shadow of a cloudless sky passing over the choppy water of a wind-tossed sea. You have been thrown overboard. You may not even be aware of it. You have entered a liminal space, silent, bound by certain rituals and full of magic; tumbled into a landscape where only the blackbirds know your thoughts.
Maybe the bricks by which the structure of this threshold have been constructed were raised by sounds: each brick filled with feeling, filled with heart. You can only know this space by leaving that step upon which you are now standing. Suddenly all sounds come to you from everywhere, from all directions, falling on you from every side. You will feel a dizziness. Relax, and let everything enter. You have become more liquid; you have become more evanescent, praising as you go.