Shattering shapes of a rigid shell
In the end it is nothing more than that
To make room for the flow
Which is moister, closer to the ground. More humble, unassuming, which hugs the Earth.
Knowing how to break fluently
And dispose of the scaffolding of thought and plan
To partake in the quicksilver streams of the moment
While they are still liquid and vivid and hold the life water that will teach you the correct way of channeling all waters gently awakened through the porous stone of your heart
it is clear that as soon as the dam is cracked and the stone is broken the successive floods will abolish that which was obstructing
However, this only comes in an honest pliability to pain
The way of handling the water seems to be given by gravity
Why did i insist on spluttering it into tumbling waves and erring mists?