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IT BEGINS HERE
I spoke the words “I no longer believe,” breaking the hearts of the believing. And so the journey began.
As I walk in the wild of the marshland, I break off a piece of decaying reed and crumble it, noticing my fingers in the act. Now do I no longer seek to be deceived.
What authority does the song bird obey. Does she not sing without pretense. Can I not sing the song of life in such a way.
When I am here, isn’t the question “do you believe” a contradiction. A strange sensation of separation.
Are memories not like the mist disappearing with the rising sun. The untouchable, a recollection never to stay.
Do I hear the whisper of the wind saying in a single breath, “you are without cause, blown about on the breeze of life.”
Do I know of the invitation to gently row on the stream of life, that commands. To flow within the teaching of its currents.
What conflict exists here. I am not a saint. Have I been freed to walk alone. Have I been freed from the mind’s yesterday and tomorrow.
Do I know that I walk the path of decay, embraced to see myself there. Joining in that journey knowing it is ours to share.
I see the sunset of my being, but do I know its sunrise. Not then, not when, but now. One following the other and the other following the one, are they not the same.
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