Grains of Sand

Where are your cuts? Why have you no bruises?

These questions were asked of me after I took a step, a step that unbeknownst would cause me to fall down the ridges of love, into the sea of despair, and washed upon the shore of truth & consequence.

To mine surprise, the questions were correct for I bore no cuts nor did I bruise, yet I was impacted by the step, the subsequent fall, that time spent floating, now here I lay, covered in sand being The Fool that I am, having ridden a ride, now in awe at that step, that step that took me far along.

As a child, I walked the beach during many days.  Now as an adult, I travel those shores many times at night.  I know not balance though I seek it.  I have no cuts, I have no bruises because the part of me that’s not my Ego, that part, it cannot fight. It allows me to transcend, this I have always believed, but at times I do wonder and wander when it’s time to leave.

My throat is harsh, parched is my body, my thirst not quenched so I feel the dry conditions despite the humidity that’s been this storm.  If I knew more about Living On Love, well than LOL I’d tell you, on the lone chance it’d give you song.

But alas, it seems as though mine words falls upon deaf ears and the further along we travel, the steeper is our divide.  I don’t know where the road will lead us but nonetheless, I thank you for the ride.

I thank you for the courage, you gave me to take that first step, for as I rolled down the range, I flowed with it, despite the rough & tumble terrain.  And when I hit that sea, you’d think I would have flowed as well, yet that is where I choked & suffered, drinking deeply of water when all I could do was flail.

Then as my crying became yelling with the sound & the fury of our clash buried beneath a swell of waves, as they stood up full like giants, each of their steps crashing over me, so small was I, but a speck, and hollow, so hollow, I’d have cursed my own name.

I don’t remember what happened next.  Blackness, darkness, a conscious coma maybe, took the place of mat rage we tried to kindle.

Now here I lie, upon this sand…

Where are your cuts? Why have you no bruises?

Do I even know your name?  Do you know my name?  It means ‘healer’ I’ve been told.  Maybe that’s why I’ve no cuts & bruises but good is meaning if it holds no Truth in reality.  This answer, same as to your questions, I just do not know.

Grains of sand, they cover me, a reminder of Nature’s abundance, for they say there are more stars in the Collective Universe than the grains on every shore.

Ha ha. Alas.  I think it’s time to go.  Or was it that I was thanking you? Oh, if you’ll excuse, the answers I just don’t know.



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