GO WITH THE FLOW...

Who I am going to join for the benefit of the living kind? Some have given it a name, which is nothing but a limitation for a concept, an arch of changing protocols to go through for the fulfillment of what is so deeply rooted, but so disappointingly out of frequency. I am not me for the sake of a fleeting embodiment, I talk to someone on my route, someone that is always here and it is not me, someone that no one, not even myself can see. There are too concepts apparently so close that divide my intellect to make me appear even more ignorant than I really am: detachment and disconnection. Both implying distance, but towards one I tend my vital force to, meanwhile the other fatally materializes my mortality and puts it upon the joyous implementation of our belonging to the source. Now, let me check… of the list of infinites uses given to corporeity which one really wouldn’t deserve to acquire adjectives as good or bad after running away from the cause and be trapped in the result? The flow, that self-propelled stream of kind light or not even light, in the absence of kindness or distracting teaching lessons, that is to my opinion motivating on its own… the deviating parameters we are conducted by alienate us from the pure essence of our souls, that is clear as the water of a snow melted stream moving away from the highest mountain top. I am happy since I heard of you; I have only one true possession, a shimmering light that cannot be turned off. I am revising the countless “embellishments” in which process we spend a life time to get to not even know that we forgot. Let go, let go… the process has just began, the mayor forces are unbound. Such a privilege but at the same time such a pity that we are going to take part of just but a brief fraction of this new world. B_Nour

THE TANGLE

Succession of living cycles, I call it rocking invisible hand pulling strings and triggers. There is no point in the analysis, the dissection of hows and whys will consume part of our existence for the sake of stubbornness. I hear stones hitting on my window, there is a gravel storm going out there erasing our facial features, the sky is playing with us as if we would be statues in a medieval temple. The moss, in the first state, as the tide is still low, the algae and the phytoplankton, as the waters cover all the old known words engraved in the in pillars that sustain us. I am letting my hair grow, as the wind blows the long locks will compose a filtering net, through which the letting go will escape with the attachments. This works in the water too, I will be safe and will give safety to others. The facilities are submerged, I feel like if I would be an amphibious. This elasticity, this patient figure located in a highly eroded slope, this living exemplification… uhmm I close my eyes and wonder if some others can feel me, if such a thing as universal vibration is bringing out there or if I am just and dormant larva. There is a circle, one that is close and fully appealing, I lay down in my graceful disposition state, things go so slow down here because of some reason. I want to get my pass to join the crops nightwalkers, I do it in my sleep surreptitiously, I fly with them to other dimensions. But why is then so hard to get close under the daylight, in this concentric settlement of roads? Patience, it is all about to come, I won’t miss it. Finally i am queuing in a pristine calm, charged with knowledge and a proper disposition. B_Nour

EMPTY POCKET ABUNDANCE

My body is recovering slowly from the shaking; the effervescent mineral amalgam fueled by the spirit is humming healing frequencies. I got a little help, I didn’t remember I had such a valuable possession; that is the problem of living in an over-saturated world, a place where things appear and disappear without leaving a trace that they ever existed. But the reason for their intersection with the parabolic arch of our terrestrial presence is full of meaning. Despite of the careless attitude in the descending indecency, the tornado shaped madness of the materialistic abundance, the mission was printed in block capital Hellenic letters in the celestial route map. Like one of those charts the flying companies include in their magazines including all of their destinations. Imagine one volume over volume over volume of superposed pages including trajectories from interstellar origin dying in you, from the ends of unknown galaxies. You are lucky, you are so lucky, and you don’t even know. In the corner of my street I wait charged of benevolence, bent by the blow of southern winds, singing a song in my mind while the providing doesn’t stop. I call you, where are you? Are you connecting yourself to the anesthesia tubes again? How many times have I told you that that is not the way? I was blessed with the grace of an endless patience, I can sing for both you and me, but only as you are transitioning not as a routine. Registering at the entrance, checking the content of your pockets, metal and paper dirty little pieces, tore off from our Mother, are not going to help after going through the Pearly Gates. Decode the sense of the senseless in your tiny little world of prejudged misconceptions; you will see how the spectrum of possible ways of reaching anything is the same as the one that reconcile you with Nature. B_Nour