Passed through - and nothing claimed but the pleasure of the view. This is freedom. To know ourselves as the capacity of allowance for all things to exist in brief passage. We are stillness touched upon by scenery, with no hold to the length of stay or appearance. Things simply are. Runners are their own path and spread of distance - steps taken in self exploration and revisit to their beauty. We are passed through by the world unfolding. Our own scenery. Our own fulfillment.
Peace,
Eric
No comments:
Post a Comment