I don't know where to begin or why. I am flesh and wonder and air and breath, sitting on a chair in a building built by others like me, but unknown to me, a dwelling in which others, equally invisible once lived. On a ball of stone surrounding a molten core of fire and flame, fleshed on its surface with crumbled bits of itself, blanketed with grass and trees and bees and burbling waters.

I need a breath. I stumbled to find a reading for today that hints at the magic of our animate earth, where everything -everything? is alive, everything a being only known so because of everything else, a field of inter- relativity. And in my concern to not choose too a long a passage, I split the portion of my reading in half and omitted the middle part, like the second act of a story, forgetting the part where the complexity and complications occur, the hardest part to write. The core of the journey. And in doing so, I truncated the whole of it, it lost its thread. So I apologize to the group and to dear David (Abram) who gives clear voice to the many languages of words and wordless that our Universe speaks.

The middle is the most important part, or at least equally so to how something begins and how something resolves. It is the middle journey where the challenges arise and choices are made and something is discovered. A body, a story, a w ay of know ing, a w ay of seeing, a way of speech. I speak the way I do, with words I choose – or that choose me – in a mysterious dance of being that is profound

if for no other reason than sense is made at all, that sound- shapes carry meaning between me and you,
between scribblings on a page and a mystical ability to transform these lines into spoken song.

It is all a miracle, missteps and mistakes, retakes and all, forming, reforming and forming again in the flow of now and now and now…