It was not until the third day

of being deep in the wild

With no one to talk to

Nothing to eat

and no where to find comfort.

With the sun scanning and baking my body,

the birdsong drawing me

deeper into a presence

that the trees silently witnessed…

I catch whiffs of my animal scent

And hear my creaturely groaning

And watch the convoy of memories, ideas

And all manner of thought forms

pass across the vast desert of

mind cracking open..

And the ants investigate my naked body,

the flies relentlessly inspect all the orifices,

And I swat and agitate

And move over there and lie down

Sit, stand, sing, pray, sit, lie, talk…

Until… no more. No more running.

Silent still surrender blossoms and

Breaks through the crust of control

red hot magma

spilling over the landscape of mind.

scorching submission

Humbled prostrations

At the greatest altar there is

Wild nature holding up

The mirror of truth

The all-seeing “I”

Asking questions

That can only be answered now

I have shut the fuck up

And sat the fuck down

to finally be present to What Is.

And then it begins,

The rare questions emerge

The ones that pierce

through calcified walls of identity

And excuses..

And protection..

What was?

what will be?

Delusion or awakening?

Lie or truth?

Fear or love?

WHO AM I?

To Quest is to face the questions

of the Soul

Full frontal

No defences

Splayed open.

Going all the way.

Now, my ego is scarred

The arrows landed deep…

And there is nothing more to do

Than live the answers to those questions.

Nothing more.