Fallowist
I search in the dark part of the heart for a place to rest. I believe in the creature that creates its nest beneath the hard rock beside the moving water to call in the calm while others crest ridges, run logic, make better more. I resist. Though the moon grows heavy with its fullness in this spring season, dragging along the horizon pulled down by the weight of water while smoke rises with each controlled calculated burn, I rest. My morning is my noon even as the evening becomes dawn within the dry warm womb uncultivated nature of mine.