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