Press Start

I have found myself at this precipice, yet, no,

I have been found at my precise self. Where I am, the rest of life spills and folds outside me, there between me and you there seems to be a thread, nor a thing to describe. It’s as if we are the fan spread out, we seem folded and separate, though, we are one solid plane of existence. There she is, my mother in heaven fans us, with her wrist she bangles and sings.

Chimes awake me now, lights that flicker and dance, you, what you say underneath what you say. I hear you too, there in that first place where we began as a thread, I am now not but the fan, but the wind and her chimes. As she cools, her vapor is my smoke.

I am coming back home again, coming back to the person I set for me. I am terrified. I see at this thought, a precipice; a final answer to be made by me, a choice: yes. I chose yes many ago only to see the choice was made for me, for us. The force inside begs to release and surrender to this fan. Wave us awake, cool the heat from her chest, I am aching for a break. Must I sing in blood stained sheets, lands made to hide me because this government mind isn’t safe nor kind. When do I see I have chose this before me, made this leap of faith already.

If there was a button to press, if there is a switch to churn this fear back into courage I will press it, I will ascent, I will a home to emerge through me, a place for us, through us. Peace may befall some. For my name, we see peace grow right rising from within us. We already chose this, I already met this moment and breached her. I wane the wind and cool the sun with my movement. I show you made a great one, a great life made me. I say yes now, I say I already prepared my vessel to wake.

Now, press start