Inside the birthing cell – a wave ancient connection, forms as a multitude of ancestral witnesses.
I hear them and now my writing begins.
I’m told to write you down and here my voice is unto you.
As a witness, being there at the birth of your being.
Surrounding you are the voices of the oppressed, the selections of what is to be studied and swallowed.
A sweet taste of uniformity – neglecting not the WHOLE.
Begin to tap into your subconscious, unwind the forces of time.
An apprehension of what your belly will take your mere suggestive desire will make.
Food, and leaves that are given for peace.
Peace in which a river will follow!
writing until the pen runs N2 paradise clarity! (by uniform & random means) 