of a liveable life
of a habitable
here and there,
usually in between of waves of catastrophes
and dreams of tsunamis.
how many times
can the fire bird fly
catch the usual crash
and reconstitute itself from atoms
the way a caterpillar-butterfly does from cells?*
*apparently they actually decompose into a soup of cells while being in the cocoon.
i certainly do feel like that.
sometimes i feel my body is the Earth and there are tectonic plates shifting,
not just on the surface, but in the core rock structures.
they rumble over each other,
there is lightning,
they melt and consolidate,
generate friction, crumble,
and in the end somehow i feel new
like after a clean shower.
i’ve stopped resisting this.
it used to scare me,
now i try to accept that i actually am the Earth
in the sense of Gaia,
that this is probably Her life blood.