SOMETIMES, THE BEST WAY to get your life in order is to go wild and never be civilized again.
She wakes feeling wild. Walks down to the river. Plunges. Beneath the surface, she cries joy. Water washes away her painful stories. With them goes the pain. She fills with morning’s subtle sermon, which is all the verses of Peace. Her body dissolves in the river. Now she is river, floating upon herself. Staring at pastel blue sky, hawks draft over, printing a calligraphy of grace on her vision.
Moon gave birth last night to a new litter of stars. She feels them now in her womb, dancing. She caresses her belly, feels a celestial Love bloom and soak her cells. Willows on the riverbank whisper in the wind. A powder yellow butterfly lands on her shoulder. She is its silent island in the stream. Waving her arms back and forth, water gently slushing her skin, she feels an old rage get up in her chest and go walking. Away from her.
Today, she will make no plans. Perform no expectations. She feels so good, she wonders if this is a dream. Her body flushes with pleasure. Heart rate slows like last raindrops from the roof long after the rain. Her clothes for this whole day shall be water, wind, and sun. She cries a pouring gratitude. She is undone.
– jaiya john, fragrance after rain
“Every man has his own destiny: the only imperative is to follow it, to accept it, no matter where it leads him.”
– Henry Miller
Featured image by soulsongs