
I count myself lucky, one of the strong who was able to fight the current of the river. I flop exhausted on the shore having escaped the waterfall ahead and what must surely be a painful end. I build my camp on the riverbank, finding what I need to exist and not much more. Yet, I have avoided the plunge and listen as others scream and tumble over, disappearing from view. Time passes and I languish, the shore barren but safe from the precipice ahead. Initially I feel restless but settle, becoming still and silent, I listen to the screams of those passing. Through this stillness I see more clearly, puzzled by those in the flow who splash playfully, expressions radiant. It is then, in the deep silence, I no longer hear screams of terror but shouts of excitement and joy! I feel fear yet I cannot remain here, this meager shore-bound existence is but a resistance to what is inevitable. I slip back into the flow of the river, and scream with elation as I fall, into the unknown.
Walter,
I’ll sit with this one before having a comment about it – for sure; and possibly, not arriving at any comment, at all. It sounds like grist for a dialogue, an exchange to traverse fixed positioning, while opening the possibility of possibilities.
Today I see no truth in Truth, only Truth of truth itself, infinity malleable.
Thanks for the opening,
Allen
Thank-you for reading it Allen, it was inspired by our group conversation last night. Passing…