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This Eternal River

Melt into this with me

By Allie WeigelPublished 3 years ago 2 min read
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Collage from two of my favorite magazines

The initiatrix and wandering wind found me laying in the warm sun, awakened me and chilled my bones reminding me of all that’s left undone, we sat together and sang slow songs, the pure tone of the harmony rose up to split the sky open and the rain filled the meadow where I had been resting, i screamed of a flood while the initiarix laughed and the wind danced, feeling betrayed i began swimming upstream to where I had been before growing tired and angry, yelling into the wind and getting swept up by the rushing water. It pushed me downstream to a place I’d never seen, out of breath i looked down to see the flood revealing a riverbank lined with precious stones of malachite and turquoise, the water clear as quartz reflecting the green blue bottom in a kaleidoscopic fantasia that mesmerized me to the point of stillness. A stillness as though i was being held right there, just as I was, a balance of stunning inspiration and enamoring relief. Dragging my finger over the surface I watched the illuminated Earth below swirl around as i floated further away from all that is thought into all that is felt. Dreaming of the initiatrix’s beautiful laughing mouth, of the strong branches the wind had swiftly spun and dipped. All at once i laughed and cried purging every oversight and doubt, my body buzzing with the cosmic relief that once seemed elusive, now radiating and calling forth patterns forgotten. Ways to bend without breaking, ways to bend into making. Smiling and stretching seeing the humor in the sickness of fear the frantic lovechild of genuine worry and stubborn ignorance. Left with only the power of the medicine in this movement I could never call my own alone. A movement meant for this moment, crafted only by careful listening. Being carried closer to You as the unknowable is embraced with warmth and welcomed with joy, for the meadow is flooded and all fear is dead washed up on a river bank with the rest of what was clouding my head. The living breathing river moves only ahead, cleansing and crying and praying for all that must be shed.

surreal poetry
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About the Creator

Allie Weigel

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