the great wheel at last, is turning in the heavens and is turning also in me.
the battles now still happen but they are not designed to defeat me. and i am relieved.
knowing i am a king in exile, and that the world knows it too, knowing we are in exile, together, and we are each, alone. and in that, not alone, at all.
the battles never were pitched, to accomplish my undoing, only rather the unmaking of everything life had made of me which i am not.
and so to strip away the husk, all that, which, i simply cannot carry forward through the door.
threshed, in a way that invited me all along and asked of me only the fair and necessary wage of bearing witness and holding in due honour, the raw and livid cost of the million years it took to get me here now, standing, unbent, at the very axel of the wheel. striding, across the threshold towards an uncertain tomorrow.
and i am reminded, how and taught also for the very first time, what it means to be most intimate with Life.
i have let go of knowing what the day will look like exactly, and i have never felt more reassured of anything in my life.