We are ever teachable — each living breathing moment offers a chance to see further, through to more than you thought, more than you knew before — this moment is a teaching moment, I heard the vine whisper in my inner ear, at bay and at hand these integral days as the afterglow fades but this ancient new inhabitant remains — so what are you going to do about it? You know well the old pathways — they are marked with your worn soles — your worn soul has marked the trees with your comings, goings and bad poems — rest assured, they’re going nowhere, and their lank air loves to gather ‘round the breath of you — but come now, there’s something very new, new roads to places unseen, a river awaiting a lick of your skin that will carry you upstream to a place that you cannot even dream of from where you’re standing in the shadow of the tree of familiarity — though the faces and the places change, underneath, where things matter and are made matter, where a life arises and is made, everything has pretty much stayed the same — for a long time now — the vine frames your truth in most uncomfortable embrace — if you cannot look upon what you see here, it won’t go away — if you can’t withstand the maddening flinching under today’s cloak of ocean jewels and skin, you’ll be pressed by the elementals again, and again, and again until the warm earth presses you to finally rest under its weight — if you cannot show up to the plate here in this love, nothing will inherently change; the saboteur will have her fun, again you’ll run and again you’ll expect someone to enter this house with the deftness of the one who knows each room as though it were his very own home — what do you expect? Things change when we dare to look with unwavering eyes and brave heart. We are ever teachable — one day, without even thinking, we’ll find our feet walking other, untrodden paths.