Jump jump into the unknown rushing waters of life. I’ve been slightly gulping for air they don’t have up here and doing a doggie paddle flopping motion through the waters – it’s still here. Still -as in quiet -as in tingly. What is wrong – where are the creatures of chatter, cluckers, creaetures of mirth? I went silent too. Awe induced and dumb struck. I thought I’d slowly shrivel up with no – THIS:
But they have plenty of green and plenty of trees and plenty of fleurs that make me walk waggle down a path way up in the Rockies.
The dirt is funny. I don’t think o’ Carolina clay as – well – dirt. It’s red. It’s earth blood and clay fodder. It’s clean and true and stained round the collars of the white shirts of my fellas. But my fellas love this west. I told my daddy that he instilled some compass saying Drive West when the hands can’t fix it and the mind can’t mend it. Go west and find salvation or in their case, at least a fright inducing scrape with Wild Creatures -Making the heart pump past the doldrums and the should haves or wish-I-couldas. Heart beating into live and let live and let me run on.
I saw majesty simply living. Some vulnerable trust this land -naively faithful that we won’t fuck it up further.
I’m here renewing some shaky faith -slurping it back down into my belly that that can be true of me too.
This makes my heart happy. 🙂