It's time.
So long outside ourselves,
beside ourselves,
and now we’re returning,
a rare few all at once,
most of us
like layers unraveling
day by day,
year by year.
We leave the maps behind,
trust the instinct
of our star-filled mammal hearts
to know exactly where
and with whom
we belong,
lean into the primal clarity
of yes to this,
or no to that,
or no need yet to know.
Sensing what is true,
discerning what is not,
releasing the habits,
patterns
and choices
that have kept us estranged.
We see through the temptation
to live in threat,
cultivate disciplined relaxation
amidst the storm
lest strung too tight
we miss the simple quiet
that guides the way.
We are willing
to be in the dark,
ready to meet the grief
and shame of generations,
and coming to terms
with the anger and despair.
Running away
has run its course,
a thousand lifetimes
attracted to distraction,
terrified of the core,
distant, walled, apart.
Our intimate intelligence
now inspires and ignites
a thawing of all that froze,
a remembering
of all that fragmented.
We are sanctuaries,
each and every one,
like broad trees we are planted
in the moist earth silence
at the center of the wheel
Here we welcome
each and every traveler.
Undefended again.
Unafraid again.
Imagining movement
that rises in stillness,
awakening wildness,
discovering
we never left,
home always,
our source,
our task,
and our final rest.
~~Luke Anderson
