The clock strikes ten,
the hand of time marches forward
there's nothing here
but this now.
You sit beside me,
now a favored place to be,
beside one another for the long haul,
no matter what may come.
And its just the rhythm of life flowing on,
we love, we lose, we let go,
we cry, we whine, we laugh maniacally,
our inward gaze finding balance
in an outward facing repose.
There's a strength and a comfort
in knowing intimately the back that lines your own,
it's soft curves and it's rigid edges,
eventually worn down by the tide.
We'll ride this wave until the conductor
pulls the lever, rising high and pitching forward,
sinking low and submerging ourselves
in the dark and the muck
with the current, the waning moon and
the waxing seasons.
It's not a race nor a competition, it's simply a joyful
turn of the wheel. Where we'll end up, nobody knows.
For now, what remains, is this,
the presence of our warm, beating hearts
and the willingness of our Spirits
to keep showing up to this eternal dance, to meet in the middle
of all that we think we know, of who we think we are
and where we think we're going to.
Just beeing. Simply breathing.
Moment by moment, and day by day.
Together
and alone.
Individual
and collective.
The dynamic pull of polarity is delighted within the whole.
Discover yourself
here.
