Earth’s Birthing Shelf

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; no fears; no strife.

And I am standing among

Peru’s cloud forest…

And there myself I find…

Standing on the seismic stretch-marks of our planets birthing shelf, and

I remember:

Sometimes one must clash, grind, and break, stone upon stone,

Monumentally shift in volcanic disarray-

To find the New Self…

To find…the New Day

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