Waxing And Waning

Tossing to and fro the mood swings to the beat of a distant drummer. Beyond the appearance, the curtain provides the means to stealthily play hide and seek. Though it be a child's privilege like all things, it too must reach the end of it's usefulness. We all grow in the light of manifestation, exploding upon the scene and scenes of living. In the turning of the tide all becomes moot.

As we 'struggle' with this and that the play unfolds and as the path leads us ever onward¹ into some 'unknown' and 'unknowable' future, we can take refuge in conviction. If we do not become what is there left to do in this Universe? As all the solitary figures take root the plot unfolds and reveals that which is to be undertaken. The only pointless life is the one upon which we have turned away from.

It's not a case of the missing 'link' but more of one in which the prowess of perception comes to the fore.

I have always stood alone and so as the flock moves about the pasture, I too must follow.

I see you.