Then I lose myself, explaining how there isn�t a way (where?)
every thought might begin with a destination and decide (meek as it will be) that it had better not.
falling through dreams
living with water
emotions in things
staying awake
dream tools
everything shrinks when I touch it
she
wells...
I meditate by drawing sand lines in my brain
even a search, even a voyage no.
it is meek
my snake, my cell, my chink into the lighted room
what is obeissance, what is mastery here
It is begun. I have made the first strokes...
Advent V. The Door