Wrapped up, snuggled safely in our “story”- this projection
that is thrown out into the universe, used to identity ourselves in this vast
and scary thing called life. A story
we’ve painted, colors chosen, outlined in familiar expressions; albatross. Hand
crafted to fit some paradigm, paralleled within the confines of flashing scenes
in waking hours.
Lost. In this story. Au
courant. An insipid cocktail, vehemently caressing our soft palate. Trite. Rinse, wash, repeat. Humdrum, singing passé melodies,
quicksand to our growth; divine sprouting mucked.
Prisoners blanketed in unfolding scenes carefully woven in
guile and pointed outlines. Alcatraz. Seduction like saccharine, rose pedals sprinkled
twinkling lights effervescently agape to paths ahead.
Characters passing through malleable in shape and form,
flitting across turning pages, chapter by chapter, flowing in and out where seemingly fit, ocean
tides changing like seasons, igniting changes red crimson on crisp autumn
leaves, tweaking pigments, altering our expressions.
Bathed and dripping in obedience, bleak, jaded, sacrificing unbeknownst
to self, possibilities limited, stomped out like coals once ablaze with life
effervescent. Lost, in such a reality, staunch in perceived gaze, arm’s length in
compass diameter; confined. Foot binding life into three inches-two-one.
We get so wrapped up in that reality, that we forget to look
up. To balance, realign and allow the sky in its limitless expansion to humble us,
right back down to our toes, tucked into our shoes, body’s infrastructure
meeting earth’s. This enables us to see a bigger picture than our limited
vision that is self focused. Blue skies, twinkling rays of sun, birds flying.
Inhale. Expanding in colors, yellow, and red, smiling green, twinkling purple.
Expressions exhale, casting a smile upwards, freeing to what all is.
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