When the time is ready
Flowers will bloom.
The buried particles of oneness’s whole will threaten sturdy homes.
Cement-ridden times of industrial changes, brought cracks with themselves as they promised to replace the bone’s solidity.
The home in our bellies will remember old caves.
Ancient knowledge, deeply buried under the skin, may reawake
When the time is ready,
When we are ready to listen to our primordial nature.
Oh, dear density, you pressure-maker,
You creator of diamonds,
Dear mother,
Let us be still and bow in front of you.
Us.
Alone we are swallowed by busy days.
Send us peers, who will hold us.
Together we form the webs to hold each other,
To lean into you
and to listen
Within.
Within means into our bellies,
Into our caves,
Into you.
In the old times, we were held by our group,
Never alone to immerse into the primordial digestion of the whole.
So, when the time comes, may we be ready to hold each other’s hands and create a web of support.
It’s dark in the cave,
It’s moist and cool.
The sound of darkness bends into the stalactite’s water pool.
Immersion into the deepest core within,
That point, that dissolves time and space.
May we be held,
By you,
By our elders,
and by each other.
So we can go that deep,
So we can answer your call.