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the glow of salt
There are no rewards for growing into yourself, unless you count that singular love connected to all you’ve given up to gain. This love is a singularity.. what is divine and opposite is squared and multiplied in the singular self .. over and over again until there is only one. This is possible .. it is a maturity.
I told her to just come in, the floors were cleaned and the sheets now changed. We talked a bit about buying food and how long it takes to feel the motivation required to bake those loaves for just one, how much growing until we take form… to be rooted like a tree.. we never truly own the soil.. so we let go.. burning those roots but with every year and minute identical, we do in fact grow..
she calls me savvy.. I call it alone… it is her blessing.. and I would bless that walk …
The giving hand and the retreating hand..
The subtle construction of the demolished artifice
A new thing, growing beige and grey
I am no reward .. but this gift has wings.
“ I can’t describe the feeling when stepping through this door, freedom carries no color or taste” — -Moses in the Wild
art credit : Gabriel von Max (1840–1915) “Get Finished Flowering” (1870) Oil on canvas
