Early this morning, long before dawn…
As I climbed my mountain of worries
I could hear from atop the Andes, the
Flute of an earlier life,
Speaking to me, “No worries”, “be not afraid”, “no strife”.
And I am standing among
Peru’s cloud forests…
And there myself I find…
Standing on the seismic stretch marks of
our planet’s birthing shelf…
I remember:
Sometimes one must clash, grind, break, and
monumentally shift in volcanic disarray
To find the New Self…
To find…the New Day.
