Come away from the bones of your body and the weight of your mind. Lean into the soft lines and the dancing of this universe. Close your eyes (and your ears and your mouth). Let the quiet guide you home. Let it cleanse away the fallen, the broken pieces of your spirit. The ones you have left to wither and wilt on your own forest floor. Breathe into the cavernous furnace of your heart, into the space in your body that ties you to the center of the earth. Remember that the blood in your veins was meant for more than this. Do not open your eyes to the frenzy in progress. Keep them shut. Make them search the dark for something older than the stars in the sky above you. Sit quietly behind the piece of you that is still hungry, still looking, still fighting its way to the surface. We are turning our sights to the depths of the dark woods, to the middle of the ocean, to the end of time. To the places where the truth is hidden in plain sight, to the purpose the lies just beyond this endlessly spinning merry-go-round.
© Elizabeth McLaughlin
