The tears of unnecessary shame have stopped flowing like a restless river that flows downstream yearning, without end, to find the sea. Instead, the river has given itself up to God, to nature, to total submission to preserve its own integrity. Before, it was evaporating itself. Spinning its own wheels faster and faster, and going nowhere. Nowhere at all. Crying the same song over and over again, deeper and deeper into the pit of its core, and suddenly, the river woke up.

The river flowed in a different place now, narrower and therefore with more turbulence and ‘life.’ It had forged its way past rocks and mountains so much, that now the rocks were rounded and no longer jagged; the smoothness of the rocks represented the calm in the river…the calm that turned into laughter that chased the wind again, once again laughing and chasing, chasing and laughing. Childlike, the river became a stream here and there, as its arms reached out for more sky, more land, more feeling. And these streams percolated like coffee on a Sunday morning, making blurbing noises that echoed for the birds to add their chirps, for the frogs to add their puffy pouts.

And the river was brilliantly reflecting the sunshine and dark blue skies of the day, with the pure sounds of nature orchestrated by God’s Own hands. Conducted by the radiant beat of the water upon the soft stones, all else bowed down to this force, this liquid that could not be contained or held in one hand. It would always seek to go back to its source, the original mother. The mother would always remember the rocks, and the rocks would always remember how she smoothed them out, just as a surgeon remembers each belly, each appendix. There was nothing more to be said, for the rest of it was pure innocence, laughter, and simple nature. Even now, you can close your eyes and feel the beat of the heart of nature.

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You can feel it.