I awake in water, swaying gently with each lap at my side. It feels as though my faith is laid bare. There is no truer comfort than faith in its entirety. Inhaling, I remember that I am seen.
I feel that I am a drift, forgotten, at the mercy of this slow rocking endless sea. An impulse grows: find land that I can call home. My desire is simple but bares so much weight it creates a longing that needs tending to. I let go of the distant intangible visions for the sake of the emergence into wholeness. For the sake of remembrance of the ancient ways. What is meant for me I cannot name.
Our mouths desperate to devour, anything. Human animals subdued and depth forgotten, barely scuffing the surface of what lies beyond. And the unseen to remain unseen. In the same breath, a nameless void growing slowing within those who have forgotten how to listen. We are the offspring of trees, ripping through time to create order through violent attempts at making sense of it all.
Form and fortitude alike are required for this journey, so that you may wake and find that you are home.