You aren’t fabricating it.

There is a process going on.

The process is both personal and collective.


The process is multigenerational and multidimensional.

Day to day, the process involves holding the tension

of the Earth Realm in your own body —

between joy and suffering,

seeing and turning away,

cocooning and showing up.


It involves your gut, your eyes, your mind, the stars,

and the deep root of Being.


Everyone is required to look into the mirror.


>|<

Those that came before us dwelled within three camps.

Those driven by fear, eeking out an existence.

We’ll call them Survivors.

Those driven by manifestation, exploration, shaping reality.

Let’s call them The Builders.


Then there are those who saw beyond;

saw beyond the illusions of fear and establishment,

who took on the deep practice of watching the process.


They are the person

and the people

who woke up to the Eyes Behind the Eyes.

They are The Observers.


>|<


For weeks, I have been drifting.

Our mariner-ancestors called it the doldrums.


No wind in the sails.

No direction.

Praying for any kind of breeze.

A former lover contacted me.

She’d had a dream of me.

Her message: The hour is late.

I step out into the night air.

All is silent.

The hour is late.

The hour is late.



(c) 2019 / Frank LaRue Owen / purelandpoetry.com

sound: Hyphae / Flora and Fauna / Roy Mattson

image: Ihor Malytskyi






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