The vast back of the EARTH.

The first thoughts of the day are so clear,

as I'm in commune with myself,

the monkey like mind finds itself on the highways and byways.

Some people roam those pathways with rusts on their hearts,

others go further down and lick the dust.

Their hearts radiate serenity and tranquility.  

On the vast back of the earth and beneath Her vast depths,

many seek for Numerous treasures.

Some use the earth and go within themselves

some use themselves and go within the earth's belly.

On their shoulders, burdens that make an infant's hair turn grey rest immensely.

Tragically, 

there's no bearer of burdens that can bear anyone else's burden!

On the vast back of the earth, 

the versatility in nature is pondered upon since the code of constant change is ever encoded in creation.

The green leaves fall and change,

from green to dust-colored.

Inevitable changes!

In those inevitable changes of the rhythm of life, 

better count your blessings!

Or can it be that you don't!

After all, we're often if not mostly, UNGRATEFUL. 

Blind to those subtle "Aha" moments that bring deeper insights of gratitude.

When we're carried beyond the abyss of ignorance and have fantasies of our names inscribed in hieroglyphs on papyruses like Osiris and Isis, we're bound to face oppression. The kind of oppression that makes one forget the Essence of who they are.

It places one in the storm of identity crisis, placing you on a path with no light. 

You're not free

we're not free.

no chains on our feet, but we're not free.

When we're carried beyond the abyss of ignorance, 

I know we'll be rejected for the life we choose, cast out!

But the stone that the builder refused shall be the head cornerstone.

They say confession is good for the soul, so let these pages be one's booth. 

They just have to make sure they're not reaching out to dead priests who've forsaken  the Truth cast in flowing symbols that they cheaply call "letters". 

So, on the vast back of the earth, think twice.

On the vast back of the earth, criminals walk around in priest robes and saints inhabit bodies marked with gang tattoos.

While we're made to be prodigal people, The Womb of light awaits for its lost sons and daughters. 

In that waiting place, 

rivers, fruits near and far, cleansed salutations, and open hearts meet your way. 

It's filled with the splendor of peace and it's neither too hot nor too cold. 

It carries a revitalizing warmth. 

In there,

let it warm you up, 

let it lead you to where open hearts is the rhythm from dusk till dawn,

where rivals become lovers.

Personally, 

I can't wait to be in line!