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There is a hilltop I visit

There is a hilltop I visit

Wind making waves

In dancing, flowing green grass

Punctuated with blossoms


Where the pheromones of life

Enter my brain undetected

Convince me that all is well



I used to argue with this moment

Knowing as I do

That unless everyone can find their way

To this hilltop

My visit feels like a betrayal

I would find myself there

Resting, gazing at the clouds

And start scolding my back

For lying down

My feet for pointing to the sky

My arms for lying idle

I would pry myself up from the moist earth

And force myself to continue marching


Thankfully, now I can see

The silken threads of vital nutrients

Weaving into my back, legs, feet, and arms

From the rich soil below

And the rainbows hidden in the light

Glistening down from the blue sky

And clouds

I can feel my tired cells plumping up

My brain recharging

My womb swelling with pleasure

My organs re-organizing


Yes, I can still hear the cries

Of my own inner suffering

And that of the world

Calling to me to return

To labor and toil towards liberation

But I know now

That voice advocating for unceasing effort

Is the same voice of enslavement

I am supposed to be toiling against


So today I apply

My overdeveloped muscles of toil

To the effort of staying still

Carving space for stillness

Rest

Pleasure

Out of this solid marble slab of labor

We have been sold


And as my pleasure muscles grow

And my cells are replenished

My organs organize more efficiently

My efforts become effortless

My energy pulses outwards and inwards

In ripples

My efforts become sensual play

Dancing within the flowing fabric of life

I no longer visit this hilltop

But the hilltop visits me

Wherever I am

Whatever I am doing

The green grass is undulating in the wind

And blossoms send Earth’s pheromones

On clandestine missions into my brain





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