i carry a stick, a backpack too.
there is no sound but for my footsteps along the rocky, desolate trail and that of the vastness which surrounds me. there is no feeling but for the plea of my lungs struggling for breath
…there is nothing at all and there is everything too.
up to this point, this body felt like it was carrying me
along the path, over mountains, across valleys and through rushing streams.
it felt like it was carrying my person
the one shown to the world – the one that has a name- the one that has form.
but, in this space of absolute perfection and presence, i know that that isn’t true. yes, this body carries my tissue and my person, but it is the reality of me that is not seen that carries it,
the space inside that exists regardless of the vessel
…the space inside that exists beyond all reason.
who is the i that carries? the i am – mother, coach, teacher, writer, sculptor… survivor?
there is her – the one that is connected to time and space. she exists out there
in front of where i can see.
but, there is also the i that is so much more
the i that is you and me and him and her and everyone
the i that carries all but none
the one aware of the illusion
the i that is here, now, on this mountain pass
inhaling and exhaling, inspiring and committing
this interior i feels no fear, knowing that this body will soon be gone – one day no more.
all that will remain will be this intangible essence that carries all
… along the wind and across peaks, through clouds and amongst constellations
through its breath and through all the words that rise and fall
one into the other
disappearing into another dimension
and being carried by all.
i am is where the earth meets the sky.
i am is where there is God.