Moving from place to place, I hope they know that they are never alone.
I hope that they know that they’re free to roam, to frolic, play, be present, be real.
That I love them so, never apart, they hear the things we don’t pay attention to.
1% of the daily grind we call our own, and they’re following the next layer of the cosmic web within this temporal frequency.
The ships they ride teeter precariously, undulating, because the sea is envious of their untapped potential.
A hug is beautiful, a touch is divine, a glimpse is the most exquisite of benedictions, a blessing.
Really, the presence is enough, the knowing.
This city is yours. Its streets, shop signs, back-alley shop sheds, well-maintained rice paddies.
These kids! Your comrades, arm-in-arm, you chase each other, tail in tail.
Stray dogs travel far and wide, searching for food, dozing off on subway trains –
- Only to be, to be reunited. Yelping, bounding, snuggling, loving, pawing in the sand their beautiful transmutation circle. Transmuting base metals into gold without a real circle.
- Copulating, proliferating, digging mounds, re-domesticating, renewing.
Fretting endlessly across scales, with and without a plectrum, as sundown and sunset intermingle with the hazy mounds across the latter part of the ethereal earthly hemisphere.
Far from home, torn across in exile, fragmented your historical soil, you teach us life again, by being the example.
Your heart on your sleeve and I love the process of interacting with them – from intermittent moment to intermittent moment – in between my protracted, reflective love affair with the healing energies of this web called life. I hope that they know that I love them so, and that I can’t wait to be present with them again, as they speak, bleed, sow, paint, as they write, as they do their art simply by being.
Oh, stray dogs, it is an honour to be a listener.
I love you so, I love you so. 🙂