By the Water, Musings, poetry

By the Water: Entry 6

spring, red-winged blackbirds, and consciousness

in the lake, in the clouds, all is silver. black and brown mud show green fingertips, reaching. it has rained, and it will rain again. a breeze blows cool and damp and carries the scent of fresh grass and a rainforest cacophony of red-winged blackbirds. a ridge of deeper, navier, bluer clouds looms in the west.

i remember that i am, first, a member of this sensual world. this world that does not need me to get along. this world that will be here when i am not: when i return home from the lakeshore, when i go to sleep tonight, and on, after i am dead. i breathe with the wind-rippled waves. i blink with soft wind. i think with the blackbirds. i stretch with the growing grass. my heart beats and my blood pulses with the undulation of a flock of red-striped wings. my body is their body and will one day join the earth that will feed the worms that will feed the birds, and i wonder if there is any difference between this bird and the ones i will nourish. perhaps it is the great-grandmother or the matriarch of my feathered children and when we lock eyes, we recognize each other, and we made a promise that has linked us together.

but that is an illusion: we are already linked together, in this moment, breathing the same damp, spring air, feeling the wind, looking at one another.

even now, we are a part of the same matter. we are atoms that, at some point, touch and so we are one already.

deep down, we are all water.

i know this when i see the silver of the lake. i know that i am to go into this water, that i am to dissolve myself–my external self–so that i can finally be caught close where i am supposed to be, nothing separating me from Mother Sea.

consciousness is perhaps an evolutionary mistake. everything has become so complicated. we invent gods and religious, money, governments, ways and means to measure an existence that our consciousness cannot comprehend without stopping to remember that maybe existence isn’t supposed to be comprehended. maybe it’s just supposed to be experienced.

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