The water flowed gently over the rocks, neither bursting with valor nor trickling in stagnation. It was, as it has always intended, a peaceful yet resilient constant. Endlessly flowing. It poured out from everywhere, from everything. Silently unnoticed it cared not for interruption. There is no use in denying the tangibility of its’ power. Stand in its’ way and be knocked down, brought to the knees and suffocated in an abundance of hydrogen molecules. Lay down and be swept away in its’ current, pushed from mountain to stream, stream to sea. Avoid it and die. Over indulge and implode. To lash out and attempt to go against its’ ever-present will, be warned, strength is fleeting.
It is not a matter of defeat nor triumph. It is not a matter of egotism, selfishness, timidity, or courage. It is willingness to flow. It is the matter of matter. What was once erroneous became truth with knowledge. Not knowledge from knowing; it came from knowledge of accepting. Once all was divided, subtracted and brought down to its simplest form, knowledge became present. It spoke with such surety. The walls of reality crashed in the impending flood. Engulfed in a whirlwind of fury the water hastily diluted the structure of an infected presumption of self. It covered the chasms of a split identity, filling in the void with life.
There used to be fog. Now there is water. The fog’s vital elements of self were missing. It never knew exactly what it was meant to be. Its’ potential fostered no kinetic energy and it hung in the air thick with stagnation. The fog was selfish, it consumed everything in its’ path. It was corrupt and lonely. It never felt nor cared for anything. Once the elements were reordered and properly displaced water came to fruition. Teeming with life it’s vibrancy poured through everything; it became salvation. All of the world was bathed, washed, and cleansed.
I stripped the soaked layers of deception and bigotry. I wrung out jealousy, anger, and malevolence. At the edge of the stream I dried my cleansed naked body slowly in the warmth of the sun. I let it radiate until every drop of my identity evaporated back into my pores. I clothed myself in a thin layer of redemption. I tightly tied the laces of stability on my feet wrapped in the wild boots of love. Together the soulless soles became a pair ready to tromp through the unknown.
A striving thought from yesteryear collapsed with the dawn of a present reality. In the time of darkness completion meant light. A separate duality paired to balance an unresolved equation. The parameter has changed; the results are as follows. Two halves do not make one. Two ones do not make two. The reality of the outcome is this; one and one make three. Three personalities, three needs, three desires. Three, the process of all life. Two parts hydrogen one part oxygen.
Sharing the same breath, made of the same water, but perfectly different and unique. One can not divide itself in order to complete another. The two halves will eventually melt and dry, breaking and destroying the polar covalent bond. In order to complete the evolutionary cycle all parts must be complete before attempting to merge. The importance of self identity shall never be diluted.
Some forms of water freeze and crack, others fade out inside the fog of our own innermost subconscious. The most beautiful remain in fluidity. They carve the canyons. They sweep away decay and replenish the soil.
Finally, yes, finally fluidity. Pure bliss. Pureness. A keen sense of certainty. Now I am alive, finally. We move together through the landscape with such elegance and purpose. No longer looking for anything I found everything. The tunnels are drown under an ocean of love and happiness. The bending, twisting light is now the sunrise and sunset of each passing day. They reflect off the water as we move in waves. No more desperate, ambiguous fumbling in the fog in search of it. Just simply watching as it comes and goes; greeting it with laps of waves. Take me to the sea, for I am finally free.