Within the air we breathe; the things we see, and the stuff we touch; the thoughts too much.
Bring It down to where It’s found. Have no limits, no reservations, getting rid of what causes these hesitations.
The discernment of right and wrong. To whom do we owe the gesture of such a feat?
Whom is so strong, so complete as to know what’s right from what is wrong?
The fight is in the thought. The thoughts are in the rocks, Pouring forth from the heat.
Disappearing with the sweat so sweet.
No longer clamped in disbelief, sharing completely what’s underneath.
For it is time to be shown, and it is time to be grown.