Somehow i escaped into the deep forest. The day was breaking across the wavering limbs with sun beams stretching into the air between. I felt the truth of warm spirit into my skin. All my memories of love were entangled into my mind like a mesh of mycelium into the earth of my being, my heart. I pondered over them and hesitated by you Susan. Why did i forsaken you so long ago yesterday, today now i own this. I am sorry, so sorry for the pain i caused; the strength i displayed, the turmoil i endured, the loss was so deep it holds me so close to love.
I walked on, the trail let go into a field of daisies and tall grass blonde with a slight breeze of kelp and sea. You, weaving in and out of my heart. I noticed the air surrounding swooshing into a ball of transparent light as a lens, a view into another realm. I was sucked into this swirl of live memory and you, there, the dancing shaman from peyote of wirikuta, the appearance that left me walking this red road for all my years. I am old now. I have lived this life in and out of fear and love. I am hunyea, protector of the heart, walking dancing still.
I traveled for days into this time bending space thru every memory that had ever hit my mind. I relived as if for the first time, all in a flash of a moment. Time is an illusion, a condensed universe in-between the heart and the gods of all things. I learned to keep walking……no matter what, see without looking, be without pattern. Time folded itself across my chest into warm segments of existence of everyone, i was one with all, a being of everything, light eternal.
When i arrived back in the forest from across the fields of time i was bewildered beautifully in astonishment beyond all memory. I was whole, full of dimensions i will never know. I know nothing. I feel right, perfect, whole, true. The day continued into the tall afternoon. I took this as a bird in flight, weaving around the molecules, sucked by the ether of love, god, faith….thought became but a lower tool and nothing more. It did not own me, make me….it was put into its place within the forest, the forest of life, trees became my friends, air the spirit of breath, life was condensed into moments moving gracefully across the trails of time. I am here, now.
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WeyWord Times / All Writing and Images by Patrick Wey
Series of Photo Work in Progress…. Moments in Bent Time
Hang Me Up Somewhere…. View Images Here