Temperance

Just give it some time. If it still seems important in five minutes of five hours or five days or the next time when the time folds in such a way that we are here again, the decided how to act. Take in the knowledge. Read. Breathe, in through my nose, into my belly, into my pelvis, into my thighs, into my knees, breathe. Out my physical self, out my spiritual self, out my intellectual and sexual and social and political and egotistical self. Go on and call me out, and face the reality. There is still a world. Until I die, I am still alive. Whether I am in or called out, I am in existance. You are. In love.

Just give it some time. It will still be important in five minutes or five hours or five days ot the next time the time folds in on itself and I find myself here...again. Its like a breath that travels in and is exchanged, it is different what comes in and what goes out. And I am still free. I am still important. Still alive. Still breathing. Still. The stillness of myself is the certainty that I can be on top again. I can get down again. I can. and time won't tell me anything.

But it is, still.

So here is a little gift of temperance. Let the worry be something else, let it turn into a plant, and water it, and give it love, and then the worry will be beautiful instead of troubling. And it can be part of my forest. There the boredom bush, my worry vine. This is my friendship flower, and my shyness shrub. Here i have just a plant, and that one is a power plant. This one is my frustration and this one beside it my hate plant. But i love them all, and care and nuture them because they are all ppaprt of my world. They are all real, they exist and i believe they exist, and besides...they are beautiful.