Recovering

After a long drouth, I wonder where I lost the way. As I awake, so many things are going on that I am bewildered by the activity. I hear myself saying things as though I was overhearing me from the next room.

There is so much activity. There is so much energy from around the world, gathered into this place. When I was last here, in the shadows of Wizard Ways , I was writing stories that had begun a year ago after IMPACT 2015 started to dissolve, and I recovered from a deep silence inspired by the vision of a new discovery, a new awareness. In that space, I felt the connection to the source of all creating, coming out of the silence, from the zero state to indescribably incandescent decibels of beauty.

But then I started to disappear. Becoming invisible was a slow journey out of myself. Although I had many stories in my head, none of them could find their way to my fingers and the keyboard. As I looked in the mirror I noticed I was fading. There were the poems that called to be published and I had a favorable experiment on FaceBook, creating poems in the fiery chaos of a rhythmic shift that reverberated with a deep and infinite shudder, an echo of the universe erupting into being.

Phaedrus stood in the shadows and watched, he strode the corridors of silence and listened.

There was the miracle of concinnity, the mingling of gathering energy that would propel an emerging vision of our immediacy in this moment of the world.  In the fading days of summer, our intuition seemed to engage a new awareness of who we are and how we make the quality of discovery become a shared reality.