Taking the Long Way Home

“To live to see the great day that dawns… Ho hum. In twenty days it’ll be nearly three decades- we’ve ll lived in our mothers & their mothers & their mothers & so on for far longer than that. Walking backwards from one great light as we reach behind and beyond ourselves to the next…”

Few words came while writing, propped up against old wood, under wheat colored moonlight, praying a little and weeping a lot to the radiant corona and red stars in the sky.

Today is also technically the sixth, and I suppose we will all see eventually if the trek does indeed begin today.

Its a jail-break kind of day; a sensation I hope to never meet again. Dragging ourselves down the raucous highway, driving backwards from the imagined goal, it was the first time I’ve seen the sky in years.

There isn’t much left in me before embarking and this initial expression portends, I think, one of the many aspects of a journey, a wandering, which is: a sort of barrenness. Ho hum. If we’re constantly dragging ourselves down concrete highways screaming past the world, the great day that dawns, the light of the world will lovingly but only warm and nourish, make flush and bead sweat upon, the backs of our necks and outstretched palms.

-Rhizome