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Tales From The Morph
Author: Soren Dreier
Oh, the roads we take on…They bend and they curve, for some they are straight.
Sometimes we may envy that, but we don’t seem to be on that page.
With eyes still straying to the horizon, painfully, joyfully, aware that this incarnate adventure will have its final destination… if not in this life then the next.
Collecting experiences like carefully handcrafted bricks of clay we build and build, some frantically, some in tranquility, and like Tibetan monks making madalas – we tear it down again – striving for the perfection of the soul, seeing our final vision gathering on the horizon with the promise of the Sun sending us gentle good morning kisses.
A flake in a snowstorm this life is, and yet this life is the magnitude of the storm. Wild is the wind… Do we need to separate ourselves further from our own greatness? So eagerly they tell us we are reduced to a grain in a cereal box, for their greasy stinking teeth to bite in.
Looks hopeless, even arrogant, believing that we can beat them, but we can we know, we have before. That is why we traveled all this way from the celestial spheres to find ourselves in the midst of an ongoing battle once again.
In ancient of times we took the swords that were handed us and chopped their heads off, smelling their blood and holding the decapitated head in our hands, raising it as a sign of the conqueror. Bloodthirsty we were, mad men and mad women roaming the streets of ancient babylonian strongholds.
Source: http://philosophers-stone.co.uk/wordpress/2014/07/tales-from-the-morph/
