Musings on hearing the call, and the knowledge it is time to answer.
Verdammt, these cycles!
How they have their own patterns.
Our miles underfoot lead us to one place. Cause us to rest awhile. And then come calling again.
They are primitive, restless, uninterested in your readiness, or really what you ever really want at all.
Sometimes they are coloured by whirlwinds. Others by rejection. Others, pray, even if momentarily, by happiness.
And sometimes they simply come to call you. Or rather to tell you it is time once again.
There you are, unsuspecting. It throws ice upon you. Have you been resting too easily? Have you been daydreaming awhile? Had you dared to stop and take notice of the wind?
Very often I have heard the calling. But it has always asked me to come to it, and I have gone, as if fire to flame.
Presently something with a different character seems to emerge. As if the fates are pleased with your hand, and have decided indeed, to deal you another card. Of course you have no dam idea if it will be prove to be favourable. The knowledge of that, whose learning is a trial yet whose possessoship a reward – allows, at the last, a sense of acquiescence to fate.
You have me anyway, sister. I never pretended to be in charge.
And somehow, you also know that you are renewed. And in having stopped awhile, have revitalized understanding in what it is you must do.
You know your time is short, you always knew that. But a few revolutions of that particular wheel have passed. And your heart, though not sleeping but meditating, is suddenly alive to the urgency.
You are exactly where you are meant to be. Finally. And you have all the tools you need inside you.
It is time, at last, to give back what it is that was given to you.