I get these glimpses of myself in spaces I’ve never been.
I am free-flowing in the abyss and trying to make sense of the unknown.
The mystery that can never… will never be found.
But there is that part of me that longs for it make sense,
Yet it lies beyond all senses.
There is sense and no sensory journey that can be taken there.
It just is.
Nothing to gain or get,
Nothing to obtain,
One must feel it,
Melt into the emptiness of it,
It will find you,
We’re not actually free-flowing into the abyss we are the abyss,
Breaking all moulds of what has been done,
Creating new paths that haven’t been walked upon,
New findings that have been buried deep within us,
Waiting to be birthed,
Tuning into the current and letting it tell you which way it wants to go,
Feeling into the vulnerability of it,
That sore spot…
Noticing how tender it feels,
Waiting for it all to arrive,
Knowing it will,
Just not when,
The entanglement has to unravel,
And it starts with us being courageous enough to look at the wound head-on and melt into it.
