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The Persistent Glow

Father Sun, Mother Earth, how complete is the nature of life. We cannot have a balance without the polaric dance, we cannot know contrast without the two. So, we suffer by the choice to ignore the obvious and plain, to gather and to extrapolate the grander essence of the vast expressions underneath.

Shades offer shadow and gift us near infinite variety of perception and perspective, and a billion colors of light fill in the gaps; there is no end, and no beginning; I am you and you are me, yet still we suffer.

Be it so when we are still, may we suffer less.

“I’ve got your back, always,” he says. I feel that. The gentle hand pushes me upright and erect again. I wasn’t born a slouch, but I do relax in uncomfortable ways. In front of me is a dynamic, effortless creatorship, yet I most often opt to adopt the weight; the forces of inertia and concept and manipulation and control and fear… resistance. I do not enjoy pain, yet the vast majority of the conditions seeded within produce an endless harvest of prickly, emotionally-magnetic things. Damn you, I think, with a knowing smile.

And she is there, under my feet, under my back when I rest, if I ever rest. Boundless abundance and generosity, unquestioning devotion and support for even the most mundane, simple things. I prefer the simple, real things. Their notes are easier on the ears, their colors more vibrant and pure. It’s true that the sacred requires no outrageous ceremony. She is there, in all the spaces, in the playful crow or gull, in the soaring eagle, in the unhurried slug — the stream, the creek, the river, the sea! It’s the elemental embrace, and it’s heartening to remember where I came from, and why I am here, now.

They are the persistent glow, and I think it’s alright that I sit in the middle, the third, divining at the natural triangulation, where the unknown can be known.

Solvitur ambulando

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