At times I have to look away;
the desperate seeking leaving mineralized corrosion on the borderlines of my/our observation.
& let go of the sanctification I/we were unjustly denied; accept that it must be left to wither; for us to SEE another day;
it must be let to die.
Savour the release; the lingering aftertaste of bitter-sweet remembrance.

Prune that which has expired deep inside; so it may nourish the newness waiting to bloom.

“I choose to know that this will never happen”

Walk forward
& let the flow take the thievery far away to where these things belong.
Plant the memories seed to feed your children’s children. The ones that may forget our name;
the ones that will clumsily fill the footsteps in the macadamized path we wearily conjured back in to creation; unabashed and nearly blind
but not quite.

I’ve/we’ve been holding on the the ghosts too long;
the assassination of the story weighing heavy hearted.
Gone they say; but never lost
The acknowledgement of their very existence among us;
swiftly breaking the spell of their alleged lostness.

and it is with a mystical anguish and harrowing beauty; we live on – that which is alive in us demanding a fierce dedication
to which would cause even the Old Ones to cower.

Guardians of all that is
Reject the so called essential antidote to being human;
Be ready; they say.
Enter your wildness;
& Listen.

Ponderings from Cortes within the Orphan Wisdom school .


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