sleepless hands crab &
clutch at taut muscles
frozen long nights
eyes seeking skies for
the host on the ride
Rewilding: An Inquiry
Photo by Wes Hicks on Unsplash When I think too much, these are the kinds of thinks I think about. I would not blame someone for stepping slowly backwards after reading this blast of questions. [MR]
What is the purpose of ritual? What makes it an apparent requirement for spiritual practice? Is it an actual requirement or is it perpetuation based on tradition?
What is the purpose of ritual tools? Are they actually necessary to evoke/invoke spirits or deity? Again, are they perpetuated due to that hobgoblin, tradition?
When you practice your beliefs (faith, if you prefer), to you go forth or call in? Do you seek to empty, seek to fill or is this a null question with a null response?
Is it faith? Or is it gnosis?
To like/comment:
Rewilding: An Inquiry
smudging space
Photo by Ginny Rose Stewart on Unsplash i smudge space most days
inviting spirits to my smoke at
campfires within indoor plains
for no reason at all
but to give them space to
rest their weary before
they carry on & then onTo like/comment:
smudging space
A mercuric lake
Photo by Ville Palmu on Unsplash I have many thoughts trapped inside my head. I cannot free them because they are thoughts without words to go with them, or the words that might go with them are inadequate to express those thoughts. Trying to express those thoughts feels too much like, as Alan Watts would have put it, trying to bite my own teeth.
If I managed to construct those thoughts into something that could be understood, if I could find the words and unstop this mute mouth — would anyone read them anyway? I mean, really read. I am fairly certain that they cannot be words that can be heard, so I do not dare speak.
I have for a very long time tried to personally touch these thoughts, hoping to better understand people who struggled in much the same way as I do now to express inexpressible thoughts. Now that I am on that path, I understand their struggle. There are no words, we need a new language altogether to get at the words needed to explain explain explain. Maybe, I think these thoughts can only be expressed sideways, with a slipstream sense.
After I slip into the wilds, do you think you could find me? Would you want to?
The buzz of insects over a mercuric lake…
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A mercuric lake
two-twenty
Photo by Simon Wilkes on Unsplash my body is my drum
humming at two-twenty
thumps per minutes
from my thumb, terraforming
my world before my eyes
turning inside to see
where everything is
leaves and evergreens
with buzz wing dragonflies
dancing pastel skies
slumbering in dream
under a springtime sun
hanging words on oak
my heart bursts wideTo like/comment:
two-twenty
