Concrete Jungle
Posted on: February 12, 2023
Ghosts in my mind tell me of things long forgotten from a time a part of me can’t forget. A part a person can not hide, even in the fathoms of lifetimes past-a sacred knowledge that is passed from the collective unconscious to the cellular existence…a birthright of souls from light to life. I miss the moist ground beneath my feet, the wind between my toes, sunscreen free sunshine, and berries on the trees. All I see now are their invisible, infinite shadows in a concrete jungle maze. Who are we in this dance of moments when the bell rings, and we race to the schoolyard with untethered abandon. So many bright lights trying to dodge the lamp shades determined to dim them. Vulture, or mouse, choice, or fate-we are all on this dualistic human rite of passage that our souls undertake…hard to tell sometimes which part is bumping around in the carriage and which is driving it. Freedom the restricted wilderness of our state parks, where for a minute you can taste the breath of eternity before closing hours when you return to the breath itself.
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