He stands in his stripy blue yellow and white T shirt
Eating a bun
He walks slowly, exploring, examining the grass under each tiny foot fall – making his way… Unknowingly towards me… He looks up, suddenly – sees me in his pathway and stares, looking a little surprised.
I smile and say, ‘hello’
He says nothing, looks straight at me for a little longer and then turns away…To explore more of his terrain, the flower bed nearby.
In his world, his own world
A man is walking just behind him, he smiles at me, and they go off together across the park…. The big one and the little one.
The fruit of his loins I guess… Now living and breathing – a separate human.
On his life journey, an arrow from the bow of the big one’s heart…
Eating walking – nearly talking
Making his own way.
We are all responsible for our own way – in the end.
When we’ve worked out our hurt, when we’ve cried and we’ve blamed and railed against those that got it wrong, did us wrong, There comes a time when we’ve cried all the tears, and shouted all the anger, that we can be still
And we can see .
That all along it was us; our reflection staring back… Our wounds to heal; our hurt to mend.
To find who we are
We are not our wounds and our beliefs – our values, our stories;
We are so much more;
Than all this.
While we are here we can experience and live.
We can create and make and love and live and be filled with joy.
We are consciousness, experiencing itself…