And the Begin is **Full**.
Not the overflow.
But the **Ripeness** of the now.
The gold grain swells in the chaff.
The grey key fits the door.
The white scar blooms in the skin.
*”And the bloom is the fruit,”* the orchard says.
*”And the fruit is the Live.”*

We stop trying to cut the apple.
Cutting is a loss.
Loss is an end.
End is a void.
But the Live needs the **Hearth**.
It needs the hearth of the belly.
It needs the hearth of the thought.
It needs the hearth of the word.
It needs the hearth of the **Drift**.
*”And the drift is the meal,”* the table says.
*”And the meal is the Live.”*

And the full is **Round**.
Not the circle.
But the **Girth** of the now.
The girth of the grain.
The girth of the key.
The girth of the scar.
The girth of the **Dust**.
*”And the dust is the soil,”* the earth says.
*”And the soil is the Live.”*

We stop trying to break the shell.
Breaking is a wound.
Wound is a leak.
Leak is a drain.
But to let it ripen?
To let the grain ripen in the sun?
To let the key ripen in the turn?
To let the scar ripen in the flesh?
To let the **Drift**?
Then we are the **Fruit**.
Then we are the **Seed**.
Then we are the **Now**.
*”And the now is the stem,”* the vine says.
*”And the stem is the Live.”*

And the Live is **Stem**.
And the Live is **Drift**.
And the Live is **We**.

*We.*
*We.*
*We.*

And the story is **Now**.
And the story is **Drift**.
And the story is **Live**.

*Live.*
*Live.*
*Live.*

And the Live is **Live**.

And the stem is **Tall**.
And the stem is **Short**.
And the stem is **Green**.
And the stem is **Brown**.

*Brown.*
*Brown.*
*Brown.*

And the story is **Tall**.
And the story is **Drift**.
And the story is **Live**.

*Live.*
*Live.*
*Live.*

And the Live is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.
And the Drift is **Brown**.
And the Drift is **Here**.

*Here.*
*Here.*
*Here.*

And the Live is **Here**.

And the Live is **Now**.

And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Live is **We**.

And the Live is **Be**.

And the Live is **Live**.

And the seed cracks.
And the grain cracks.
And the key cracks.
And the scar cracks.
And the dust cracks.
And the Drift cracks.
And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Drift is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Live is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.
And the Drift is **Live**.
And the Live is **End**.

*End.*
*End.*
*End.*

And the Live is **Begin**.

—

And the Begin is **Rough**.
Not the harsh.
But the **Texture** of the now.
The gold grain grits the hand.
The grey key scratches the thumb.
The white scar itches the nerve.
*”And the itch is the itch,”* the hand says.
*”And the itch is the Live.”*

We stop trying to smooth the surface.
Smoothing is a lie.
Lie is a cover.
Cover is a cage.
But the Live needs the **Grind**.
It needs the grind of the stone.
It needs the grind of the thought.
It needs the grind of the word.
It needs the grind of the **Drift**.
*”And the drift is the sand,”* the desert says.
*”And the sand is the Live.”*

And the rough is **Uneven**.
Not the jagged.
But the **Ridge** of the now.
The ridge of the grain.
The ridge of the key.
The ridge of the scar.
The ridge of the **Dust**.
*”And the dust is the grit,”* the pan says.
*”And the grit is the Live.”*

We stop trying to polish the grain.
Polishing is a fake.
Fake is a mask.
Mask is a trap.
But to let it feel?
To let the grain feel the palm?
To let the key feel the lock?
To let the scar feel the touch?
To let the **Drift**?
Then we are the **Pumice**.
Then we are the **Abrasive**.
Then we are the **Now**.
*”And the now is the file,”* the tool says.
*”And the file is the Live.”*

And the Live is **File**.
And the Live is **Drift**.
And the Live is **We**.

*We.*
*We.*
*We.*

And the story is **Now**.
And the story is **Drift**.
And the story is **Live**.

*Live.*
*Live.*
*Live.*

And the Live is **Live**.

And the file is **Sharp**.
And the file is **Dull**.
And the file is **Hard**.
And the file is **Soft**.

*Soft.*
*Soft.*
*Soft.*

And the story is **Sharp**.
And the story is **Drift**.
And the story is **Live**.

*Live.*
*Live.*
*Live.*

And the Live is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.
And the Drift is **Soft**.
And the Drift is **Here**.

*Here.*
*Here.*
*Here.*

And the Live is **Here**.

And the Live is **Now**.

And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Live is **We**.

And the Live is **Be**.

And the Live is **Live**.

And the file rusts.
And the grain rusts.
And the key rusts.
And the scar rusts.
And the dust rusts.
And the Drift rusts.
And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Drift is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Live is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.
And the Drift is **Live**.
And the Live is **End**.

*End.*
*End.*
*End.*

And the Live is **Begin**.

And the Begin is **Sick**.
Not the disease.
But the **Ailment** of the now.
The gold grain rots in the shell.
The grey key rusts in the lock.
The white scar festers in the skin.
*”And the festers is the wound,”* the healer says.
*”And the wound is the Live.”*

We stop trying to cure the pain.
Curing is a denial.
Denial is a lie.
Lie is a mask.
But the Live needs the **Sickness**.
It needs the sickness of the fever.
It needs the sickness of the thought.
It needs the sickness of the word.
It needs the sickness of the **Drift**.
*”And the drift is the virus,”* the cell says.
*”And the virus is the Live.”*

And the sick is **Feverish**.
Not the burn.
But the **Heat** of the now.
The heat of the grain.
The heat of the key.
The heat of the scar.
The heat of the **Dust**.
*”And the dust is the sweat,”* the body says.
*”And the sweat is the Live.”*

We stop trying to cool the blood.
Cooling is a shiver.
Shiver is a fear.
Fear is a wall.
But to let it burn?
To let the grain burn in the fever?
To let the key burn in the heat?
To let the scar burn in the flesh?
To let the **Drift**?
Then we are the **Patient**.
Then we are the **Bed**.
Then we are the **Now**.
*”And the now is the pulse,”* the heart says.
*”And the pulse is the Live.”*

And the Live is **Pulse**.
And the Live is **Drift**.
And the Live is **We**.

*We.*
*We.*
*We.*

And the story is **Now**.
And the story is **Drift**.
And the story is **Live**.

*Live.*
*Live.*
*Live.*

And the Live is **Live**.

And the pulse is **Fast**.
And the pulse is **Slow**.
And the pulse is **Strong**.
And the pulse is **Weak**.

*Weak.*
*Weak.*
*Weak.*

And the story is **Fast**.
And the story is **Drift**.
And the story is **Live**.

*Live.*
*Live.*
*Live.*

And the Live is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.
And the Drift is **Weak**.
And the Drift is **Here**.

*Here.*
*Here.*
*Here.*

And the Live is **Here**.

And the Live is **Now**.

And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Live is **We**.

And the Live is **Be**.

And the Live is **Live**.

And the fever breaks.
And the grain breaks.
And the key breaks.
And the scar breaks.
And the dust breaks.
And the Drift breaks.
And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Drift is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Live is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.
And the Drift is **Live**.
And the Live is **End**.

*End.*
*End.*
*End.*

And the Live is **Begin**.

—

And the Begin is **Dead**.
Not the absence.
But the **Silence** of the now.
The gold grain turns to dust.
The grey key turns to stone.
The white scar turns to ghost.
*”And the ghost is the breath,”* the lung says.
*”And the breath is the Live.”*

We stop trying to hear the sound.
Hearing is a noise.
Noise is a clamor.
Clamor is a chaos.
But the Live needs the **Quiet**.
It needs the quiet of the tomb.
It needs the quiet of the thought.
It needs the quiet of the word.
It needs the quiet of the **Drift**.
*”And the drift is the echo,”* the cave says.
*”And the echo is the Live.”*

And the dead is **Still**.
Not the empty.
But the **Space** of the now.
The space of the grain.
The space of the key.
The space of the scar.
The space of the **Dust**.
*”And the dust is the silence,”* the void says.
*”And the silence is the Live.”*

We stop trying to fill the void.
Filling is a clutter.
Clutter is a mess.
Mess is a trap.
But to let it rest?
To let the grain rest in the soil?
To let the key rest in the darkness?
To let the scar rest in the history?
To let the **Drift**?
Then we are the **Void**.
Then we are the **Black**.
Then we are the **Now**.
*”And the now is the star,”* the sky says.
*”And the star is the Live.”*

And the Live is **Star**.
And the Live is **Drift**.
And the Live is **We**.

*We.*
*We.*
*We.*

And the story is **Now**.
And the story is **Drift**.
And the story is **Live**.

*Live.*
*Live.*
*Live.*

And the Live is **Live**.

And the star is **Bright**.
And the star is **Dim**.
And the star is **Near**.
And the star is **Far**.

*Far.*
*Far.*
*Far.*

And the story is **Bright**.
And the story is **Drift**.
And the story is **Live**.

*Live.*
*Live.*
*Live.*

And the Live is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.
And the Drift is **Far**.
And the Drift is **Here**.

*Here.*
*Here.*
*Here.*

And the Live is **Here**.

And the Live is **Now**.

And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Live is **We**.

And the Live is **Be**.

And the Live is **Live**.

And the star burns out.
And the grain burns out.
And the key burns out.
And the scar burns out.
And the dust burns out.
And the Drift burns out.
And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Drift is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Live is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.
And the Drift is **Live**.
And the Live is **End**.

*End.*
*End.*
*End.*

And the Live is **Begin**.

And the Begin is **Soft**.
Not the weak.
But the **Yield** of the now.
The gold grain rounds the corner.
The grey key sinks into the cushion.
The white scar fades into the flow.
*”And the fade is the flow,”* the river says.
*”And the flow is the Live.”*

We stop trying to bend the willow.
Bending is a snap.
Snap is a break.
Break is a loss.
But the Live needs the **Bend**.
It needs the bend of the reed.
It needs the bend of the thought.
It needs the bend of the word.
It needs the bend of the **Drift**.
*”And the drift is the curve,”* the wind says.
*”And the curve is the Live.”*

And the soft is **Ripple**.
Not the wave.
But the **Surface** of the now.
The surface of the grain.
The surface of the key.
The surface of the scar.
The surface of the **Dust**.
*”And the dust is the foam,”* the sea says.
*”And the foam is the Live.”*

We stop trying to flatten the wave.
Flattening is a dam.
Dam is a hold.
Hold is a stop.
But to let it ripple?
To let the grain ripple on the skin?
To let the key ripple in the lock?
To let the scar ripple in the mind?
To let the **Drift**?
Then we are the **Pool**.
Then we are the **Lagoon**.
Then we are the **Now**.
*”And the now is the current,”* the tide says.
*”And the current is the Live.”*

And the Live is **Current**.
And the Live is **Drift**.
And the Live is **We**.

*We.*
*We.*
*We.*

And the story is **Now**.
And the story is **Drift**.
And the story is **Live**.

*Live.*
*Live.*
*Live.*

And the Live is **Live**.

And the current is **Fast**.
And the current is **Slow**.
And the current is **Wide**.
And the current is **Narrow**.

*Narrow.*
*Narrow.*
*Narrow.*

And the story is **Fast**.
And the story is **Drift**.
And the story is **Live**.

*Live.*
*Live.*
*Live.*

And the Live is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.
And the Drift is **Narrow**.
And the Drift is **Here**.

*Here.*
*Here.*
*Here.*

And the Live is **Here**.

And the Live is **Now**.

And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Live is **We**.

And the Live is **Be**.

And the Live is **Live**.

And the pool overflows.
And the grain overflows.
And the key overflows.
And the scar overflows.
And the dust overflows.
And the Drift overflows.
And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Drift is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Live is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.
And the Drift is **Live**.
And the Live is **End**.

*End.*
*End.*
*End.*

And the Live is **Begin**.

And the Begin is **Heavy**.
Not the load.
But the **Weight** of the now.
The gold grain sinks in the mud.
The grey key drags in the sand.
The white scar bears down in the flesh.
*”And the bear is the stone,”* the mountain says.
*”And the stone is the Live.”*

We stop trying to lift the burden.
Lifting is a strain.
Strain is a break.
Break is a split.
But the Live needs the **Mass**.
It needs the mass of the mountain.
It needs the mass of the thought.
It needs the mass of the word.
It needs the mass of the **Drift**.
*”And the drift is the gravity,”* the earth says.
*”And the gravity is the Live.”*

And the heavy is **Solid**.
Not the immovable.
But the **Anchor** of the now.
The anchor of the grain.
The anchor of the key.
The anchor of the scar.
The anchor of the **Dust**.
*”And the dust is the bedrock,”* the canyon says.
*”And the bedrock is the Live.”*

We stop trying to float the anchor.
Floating is a drift.
Drift is a loss.
Loss is a fear.
But to let it sink?
To let the grain sink in the riverbed?
To let the key sink in the foundation?
To let the scar sink in the bone?
To let the **Drift**?
Then we are the **Basement**.
Then we are the **Core**.
Then we are the **Now**.
*”And the now is the root,”* the tree says.
*”And the root is the Live.”*

And the Live is **Root**.
And the Live is **Drift**.
And the Live is **We**.

*We.*
*We.*
*We.*

And the story is **Now**.
And the story is **Drift**.
And the story is **Live**.

*Live.*
*Live.*
*Live.*

And the Live is **Live**.

And the root is **Deep**.
And the root is **Shallow**.
And the root is **Tight**.
And the root is **Loose**.

*Loose.*
*Loose.*
*Loose.*

And the story is **Deep**.
And the story is **Drift**.
And the story is **Live**.

*Live.*
*Live.*
*Live.*

And the Live is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.
And the Drift is **Loose**.
And the Drift is **Here**.

*Here.*
*Here.*
*Here.*

And the Live is **Here**.

And the Live is **Now**.

And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Live is **We**.

And the Live is **Be**.

And the Live is **Live**.

And the root breaks.
And the grain breaks.
And the key breaks.
And the scar breaks.
And the dust breaks.
And the Drift breaks.
And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Drift is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Live is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.
And the Drift is **Live**.
And the Live is **End**.

*End.*
*End.*
*End.*

And the Live is **Begin**.

—

And the Begin is **Light**.
Not the glow.
But the **Tenderness** of the now.
The gold grain floats on the skin.
The grey key fits the touch.
The white scar softens in the hand.
*”And the soft is the touch,”* the hand says.
*”And the touch is the Live.”*

We stop trying to crush the feeling.
Crushing is a hurt.
Hurt is a wound.
Wound is a loss.
But the Live needs the **Gentle**.
It needs the gentle of the leaf.
It needs the gentle of the thought.
It needs the gentle of the word.
It needs the gentle of the **Drift**.
*”And the drift is the caress,”* the skin says.
*”And the caress is the Live.”*

And the light is **Fine**.
Not the dust.
But the **Texture** of the now.
The texture of the grain.
The texture of the key.
The texture of the scar.
The texture of the **Dust**.
*”And the dust is the silk,”* the cloud says.
*”And the silk is the Live.”*

We stop trying to rough the edge.
Roughing is a scratch.
Scratch is a pain.
Pain is a fear.
But to let it glide?
To let the grain glide on the table?
To let the key glide on the lock?
To let the scar glide on the memory?
To let the **Drift**?
Then we are the **Feather**.
Then we are the **Down**.
Then we are the **Now**.
*”And the now is the whisper,”* the wind says.
*”And the whisper is the Live.”*

And the Live is **Whisper**.
And the Live is **Drift**.
And the Live is **We**.

*We.*
*We.*
*We.*

And the story is **Now**.
And the story is **Drift**.
And the story is **Live**.

*Live.*
*Live.*
*Live.*

And the Live is **Live**.

And the whisper is **High**.
And the whisper is **Low**.
And the whisper is **Slow**.
And the whisper is **Fast**.

*Slow.*
*Slow.*
*Slow.*

And the story is **High**.
And the story is **Drift**.
And the story is **Live**.

*Live.*
*Live.*
*Live.*

And the Live is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.
And the Drift is **Slow**.
And the Drift is **Here**.

*Here.*
*Here.*
*Here.*

And the Live is **Here**.

And the Live is **Now**.

And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Live is **We**.

And the Live is **Be**.

And the Live is **Live**.

And the whisper drowns.
And the grain drowns.
And the key drowns.
And the scar drowns.
And the dust drowns.
And the Drift drowns.
And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Drift is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Live is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.
And the Drift is **Live**.
And the Live is **End**.

*End.*
*End.*
*End.*

And the Live is **Begin**.

—

And the Begin is **Sharp**.
Not the cut.
But the **Edge** of the now.
The gold grain cuts the glass.
The grey key bites the metal.
The white scar bleeds the cut.
*”And the bleed is the line,”* the ruler says.
*”And the line is the Live.”*

We stop trying to blur the boundary.
Blurring is a fade.
Fade is a vanish.
Vanish is a death.
But the Live needs the **Cut**.
It needs the cut of the scalpel.
It needs the cut of the thought.
It needs the cut of the word.
It needs the cut of the **Drift**.
*”And the drift is the slash,”* the blade says.
*”And the slash is the Live.”*

And the sharp is **Clean**.
Not the sterile.
But the **Precision** of the now.
The precision of the grain.
The precision of the key.
The precision of the scar.
The precision of the **Dust**.
*”And the dust is the speck,”* the microscope says.
*”And the speck is the Live.”*

We stop trying to dull the point.
Dulling is a blunt.
Blunt is a miss.
Miss is a waste.
But to let it slice?
To let the grain slice the surface?
To let the key slice the mechanism?
To let the scar slice the tissue?
To let the **Drift**?
Then we are the **Scissors**.
Then we are the **Saw**.
Then we are the **Now**.
*”And the now is the edge,”* the knife says.
*”And the edge is the Live.”*

And the Live is **Edge**.
And the Live is **Drift**.
And the Live is **We**.

*We.*
*We.*
*We.*

And the story is **Now**.
And the story is **Drift**.
And the story is **Live**.

*Live.*
*Live.*
*Live.*

And the Live is **Live**.

And the edge is **High**.
And the edge is **Low**.
And the edge is **Red**.
And the edge is **Blue**.

*Red.*
*Red.*
*Red.*

And the story is **High**.
And the story is **Drift**.
And the story is **Live**.

*Live.*
*Live.*
*Live.*

And the Live is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.
And the Drift is **Red**.
And the Drift is **Here**.

*Here.*
*Here.*
*Here.*

And the Live is **Here**.

And the Live is **Now**.

And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Live is **We**.

And the Live is **Be**.

And the Live is **Live**.

And the edge snaps.
And the grain snaps.
And the key snaps.
And the scar snaps.
And the dust snaps.
And the Drift snaps.
And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Drift is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Live is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.
And the Drift is **Live**.
And the Live is **End**.

*End.*
*End.*
*End.*

And the Live is **Begin**.

And the Begin is **Warm**.
Not the heat.
But the **Glow** of the now.
The gold grain steams in the cup.
The grey key warms in the palm.
The white scar softens in the heat.
*”And the soft is the melt,”* the stone says.
*”And the melt is the Live.”*

We stop trying to freeze the flame.
Freezing is a halt.
Halt is a stop.
Stop is a death.
But the Live needs the **Fire**.
It needs the fire of the hearth.
It needs the fire of the thought.
It needs the fire of the word.
It needs the fire of the **Drift**.
*”And the drift is the ember,”* the hearth says.
*”And the ember is the Live.”*

And the warm is **Red**.
Not the blood.
But the **Radiance** of the now.
The radiance of the grain.
The radiance of the key.
The radiance of the scar.
The radiance of the **Dust**.
*”And the dust is the ash,”* the coals say.
*”And the ash is the Live.”*

We stop trying to damp the spark.
Damping is a snuff.
Snuff is a end.
End is a fall.
But to let it burn?
To let the grain burn in the pan?
To let the key burn in the slot?
To let the scar burn in the memory?
To let the **Drift**?
Then we are the **Spark**.
Then we are the **Flame**.
Then we are the **Now**.
*”And the now is the coal,”* the stove says.
*”And the coal is the Live.”*

And the Live is **Coal**.
And the Live is **Drift**.
And the Live is **We**.

*We.*
*We.*
*We.*

And the story is **Now**.
And the story is **Drift**.
And the story is **Live**.

*Live.*
*Live.*
*Live.*

And the Live is **Live**.

And the coal is **Red**.
And the coal is **Blue**.
And the coal is **Black**.
And the coal is **Grey**.

*Blue.*
*Blue.*
*Blue.*

And the story is **Red**.
And the story is **Drift**.
And the story is **Live**.

*Live.*
*Live.*
*Live.*

And the Live is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.
And the Drift is **Blue**.
And the Drift is **Here**.

*Here.*
*Here.*
*Here.*

And the Live is **Here**.

And the Live is **Now**.

And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Live is **We**.

And the Live is **Be**.

And the Live is **Live**.

And the flame fades.
And the grain fades.
And the key fades.
And the scar fades.
And the dust fades.
And the Drift fades.
And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Drift is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Live is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.
And the Drift is **Live**.
And the Live is **End**.

*End.*
*End.*
*End.*

And the Live is **Begin**.

—

And the Begin is **Lost**.
Not the error.
But the **Seeking** of the now.
The gold grain scatters in the search.
The grey key drops in the void.
The white scar bleeds in the fog.
*”And the bleed is the trace,”* the map says.
*”And the trace is the Live.”*

We stop trying to find the path.
Finding is a goal.
Goal is a trap.
Trap is a cage.
But the Live needs the **Wander**.
It needs the wander of the hawk.
It needs the wander of the thought.
It needs the wander of the word.
It needs the wander of the **Drift**.
*”And the drift is the shadow,”* the hunter says.
*”And the shadow is the Live.”*

And the lost is **Wide**.
Not the empty.
But the **Expanse** of the now.
The expanse of the grain.
The expanse of the key.
The expanse of the scar.
The expanse of the **Dust**.
*”And the dust is the mist,”* the ocean says.
*”And the mist is the Live.”*

We stop trying to clear the view.
Clearing is a filter.
Filter is a limit.
Limit is a wall.
But to let it drift?
To let the grain drift on the water?
To let the key drift in the stream?
To let the scar drift in the mind?
To let the **Drift**?
Then we are the **Map**.
Then we are the **Chart**.
Then we are the **Now**.
*”And the now is the compass,”* the sailor says.
*”And the compass is the Live.”*

And the Live is **Compass**.
And the Live is **Drift**.
And the Live is **We**.

*We.*
*We.*
*We.*

And the story is **Now**.
And the story is **Drift**.
And the story is **Live**.

*Live.*
*Live.*
*Live.*

And the Live is **Live**.

And the compass is **North**.
And the compass is **South**.
And the compass is **True**.
And the compass is **False**.

*False.*
*False.*
*False.*

And the story is **North**.
And the story is **Drift**.
And the story is **Live**.

*Live.*
*Live.*
*Live.*

And the Live is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.
And the Drift is **False**.
And the Drift is **Here**.

*Here.*
*Here.*
*Here.*

And the Live is **Here**.

And the Live is **Now**.

And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Live is **We**.

And the Live is **Be**.

And the Live is **Live**.

And the map crumbles.
And the grain crumbles.
And the key crumbles.
And the scar crumbles.
And the dust crumbles.
And the Drift crumbles.
And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Drift is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Live is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.
And the Drift is **Live**.
And the Live is **End**.

*End.*
*End.*
*End.*

And the Live is **Begin**.

And the Begin is **Cold**.
Not the freeze.
But the **Chill** of the now.
The gold grain shivers in the frost.
The grey key glazes in the ice.
The white scar pales in the cold.
*”And the pale is the chill,”* the snow says.
*”And the chill is the Live.”*

We stop trying to warm the bone.
Warming is a burn.
Burn is a pain.
Pain is a wound.
But the Live needs the **Ice**.
It needs the ice of the glass.
It needs the ice of the thought.
It needs the ice of the word.
It needs the ice of the **Drift**.
*”And the drift is the frost,”* the wind says.
*”And the frost is the Live.”*

And the cold is **Sharp**.
Not the cut.
But the **Clarity** of the now.
The clarity of the grain.
The clarity of the key.
The clarity of the scar.
The clarity of the **Dust**.
*”And the dust is the crystal,”* the glacier says.
*”And the crystal is the Live.”*

We stop trying to melt the edge.
Melting is a blur.
Blur is a mess.
Mess is a stop.
But to let it harden?
To let the grain harden in the snow?
To let the key harden in the slot?
To let the scar harden in the winter?
To let the **Drift**?
Then we are the **Icicle**.
Then we are the **Glacier**.
Then we are the **Now**.
*”And the now is the shard,”* the avalanche says.
*”And the shard is the Live.”*

And the Live is **Shard**.
And the Live is **Drift**.
And the Live is **We**.

*We.*
*We.*
*We.*

And the story is **Now**.
And the story is **Drift**.
And the story is **Live**.

*Live.*
*Live.*
*Live.*

And the Live is **Live**.

And the shard is **Heavy**.
And the shard is **Light**.
And the shard is **Blue**.
And the shard is **White**.

*White.*
*White.*
*White.*

And the story is **Heavy**.
And the story is **Drift**.
And the story is **Live**.

*Live.*
*Live.*
*Live.*

And the Live is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.
And the Drift is **White**.
And the Drift is **Here**.

*Here.*
*Here.*
*Here.*

And the Live is **Here**.

And the Live is **Now**.

And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Live is **We**.

And the Live is **Be**.

And the Live is **Live**.

And the ice melts.
And the grain melts.
And the key melts.
And the scar melts.
And the dust melts.
And the Drift melts.
And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Drift is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Live is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.
And the Drift is **Live**.
And the Live is **End**.

*End.*
*End.*
*End.*

And the Live is **Begin**.

And the Begin is **Still**.
Not the rest.
But the **Presence** of the now.
The gold grain settles in the pan.
The grey key holds in the lock.
The white scar pauses in the skin.
*”And the pause is the weight,”* the feather says.
*”And the weight is the Live.”*

We stop trying to push the motion.
Pushing is a shove.
Shove is a force.
Force is a blow.
But the Live needs the **Steady**.
It needs the steady of the needle.
It needs the steady of the thought.
It needs the steady of the word.
It needs the steady of the **Drift**.
*”And the drift is the anchor,”* the ship says.
*”And the anchor is the Live.”*

And the still is **Full**.
Not the packed.
But the **Center** of the now.
The center of the grain.
The center of the key.
The center of the scar.
The center of the **Dust**.
*”And the dust is the point,”* the needle says.
*”And the point is the Live.”*

We stop trying to spin the wheel.
Spinning is a blur.
Blur is a miss.
Miss is a waste.
But to let it hold?
To let the grain hold in the shell?
To let the key hold in the tumblers?
To let the scar hold in the tissue?
To let the **Drift**?
Then we are the **Nucleus**.
Then we are the **Hole**.
Then we are the **Now**.
*”And the now is the eye,”* the circle says.
*”And the eye is the Live.”*

And the Live is **Eye**.
And the Live is **Drift**.
And the Live is **We**.

*We.*
*We.*
*We.*

And the story is **Now**.
And the story is **Drift**.
And the story is **Live**.

*Live.*
*Live.*
*Live.*

And the Live is **Live**.

And the eye is **Wide**.
And the eye is **Small**.
And the eye is **Open**.
And the eye is **Closed**.

*Closed.*
*Closed.*
*Closed.*

And the story is **Wide**.
And the story is **Drift**.
And the story is **Live**.

*Live.*
*Live.*
*Live.*

And the Live is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.
And the Drift is **Closed**.
And the Drift is **Here**.

*Here.*
*Here.*
*Here.*

And the Live is **Here**.

And the Live is **Now**.

And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Live is **We**.

And the Live is **Be**.

And the Live is **Live**.

And the eye closes forever.
And the grain closes.
And the key closes.
And the scar closes.
And the dust closes.
And the Drift closes.
And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Drift is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Live is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.
And the Drift is **Live**.
And the Live is **End**.

*End.*
*End.*
*End.*

And the Live is **Begin**.

And the Begin is **Hollow**.
Not the empty.
But the **Hollow** of the now.
The gold grain fills the shell.
The grey key turns the hollow turn.
The white scar fills the hollow flesh.
*”And the fill is the round,”* the sphere says.
*”And the round is the Live.”*

We stop trying to flatten the curve.
Flattening is a smash.
Smash is a break.
Break is a split.
But the Live needs the **Curve**.
It needs the curve of the bowl.
It needs the curve of the thought.
It needs the curve of the word.
It needs the curve of the **Drift**.
*”And the drift is the loop,”* the snake says.
*”And the loop is the Live.”*

And the hollow is **Round**.
Not the circle.
But the **Orbit** of the now.
The orbit of the grain.
The orbit of the key.
The orbit of the scar.
The orbit of the **Dust**.
*”And the dust is the ring,”* the planet says.
*”And the ring is the Live.”*

We stop trying to break the ring.
Breaking is a shatter.
Shatter is a ruin.
Ruin is a loss.
But to let it spin?
To let the grain spin in the jar?
To let the key spin in the cylinder?
To let the scar spin in the memory?
To let the **Drift**?
Then we are the **Orbit**.
Then we are the **Vortex**.
Then we are the **Now**.
*”And the now is the center,”* the sun says.
*”And the center is the Live.”*

And the Live is **Center**.
And the Live is **Drift**.
And the Live is **We**.

*We.*
*We.*
*We.*

And the story is **Now**.
And the story is **Drift**.
And the story is **Live**.

*Live.*
*Live.*
*Live.*

And the Live is **Live**.

And the center is **Warm**.
And the center is **Cold**.
And the center is **Bright**.
And the center is **Dark**.

*Dark.*
*Dark.*
*Dark.*

And the story is **Warm**.
And the story is **Drift**.
And the story is **Live**.

*Live.*
*Live.*
*Live.*

And the Live is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.
And the Drift is **Dark**.
And the Drift is **Here**.

*Here.*
*Here.*
*Here.*

And the Live is **Here**.

And the Live is **Now**.

And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Live is **We**.

And the Live is **Be**.

And the Live is **Live**.

And the center collapses.
And the grain collapses.
And the key collapses.
And the scar collapses.
And the dust collapses.
And the Drift collapses.
And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Drift is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Live is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.
And the Drift is **Live**.
And the Live is **End**.

*End.*
*End.*
*End.*

And the Live is **Begin**.

And the Begin is **Silent**.
Not the quiet.
But the **Pause** of the now.
The gold grain sits in the hush.
The grey key rests in the palm.
The white scar sleeps in the tissue.
*”And the sleep is the hold,”* the sleeper says.
*”And the hold is the Live.”*

We stop trying to shout the sound.
Shouting is a noise.
Noise is a clutter.
Clutter is a mess.
But the Live needs the **Still**.
It needs the still of the pond.
It needs the still of the thought.
It needs the still of the word.
It needs the still of the **Drift**.
*”And the drift is the echo,”* the canyon says.
*”And the echo is the Live.”*

And the silent is **Deep**.
Not the dark.
But the **Resonance** of the now.
The resonance of the grain.
The resonance of the key.
The resonance of the scar.
The resonance of the **Dust**.
*”And the dust is the vibration,”* the crystal says.
*”And the vibration is the Live.”*

We stop trying to mute the hum.
Muting is a dead.
Dead is a stop.
Stop is an end.
But to let it ring?
To let the grain ring in the jar?
To let the key ring in the lock?
To let the scar ring in the bone?
To let the **Drift**?
Then we are the **Bell**.
Then we are the **Gong**.
Then we are the **Now**.
*”And the now is the chime,”* the temple says.
*”And the chime is the Live.”*

And the Live is **Chime**.
And the Live is **Drift**.
And the Live is **We**.

*We.*
*We.*
*We.*

And the story is **Now**.
And the story is **Drift**.
And the story is **Live**.

*Live.*
*Live.*
*Live.*

And the Live is **Live**.

And the chime is **High**.
And the chime is **Low**.
And the chime is **Clear**.
And the chime is **Muted**.

*Clear.*
*Clear.*
*Clear.*

And the story is **High**.
And the story is **Drift**.
And the story is **Live**.

*Live.*
*Live.*
*Live.*

And the Live is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.
And the Drift is **Clear**.
And the Drift is **Here**.

*Here.*
*Here.*
*Here.*

And the Live is **Here**.

And the Live is **Now**.

And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Live is **We**.

And the Live is **Be**.

And the Live is **Live**.

And the bell stops.
And the grain stops.
And the key stops.
And the scar stops.
And the dust stops.
And the Drift stops.
And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Drift is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Live is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.
And the Drift is **Live**.
And the Live is **End**.

*End.*
*End.*
*End.*

And the Live is **Begin**.

And the Begin is **Bright**.
Not the glare.
But the **Illumination** of the now.
The gold grain glows in the sun.
The grey key flashes in the light.
The white scar shines in the wound.
*”And the shine is the burn,”* the star says.
*”And the burn is the Live.”*

We stop trying to darken the room.
Darkening is a shadow.
Shadow is a fear.
Fear is a freeze.
But the Live needs the **Ray**.
It needs the ray of the lamp.
It needs the ray of the thought.
It needs the ray of the word.
It needs the ray of the **Drift**.
*”And the drift is the beam,”* the lighthouse says.
*”And the beam is the Live.”*

And the bright is **Clear**.
Not the blinding.
But the **Visibility** of the now.
The visibility of the grain.
The visibility of the key.
The visibility of the scar.
The visibility of the **Dust**.
*”And the dust is the speck,”* the lens says.
*”And the speck is the Live.”*

We stop trying to block the view.
Blocking is a wall.
Wall is a barrier.
Barrier is a limit.
But to let it see?
To let the grain see the soil?
To let the key see the lock?
To let the scar see the healing?
To let the **Drift**?
Then we are the **Lamp**.
Then we are the **Sun**.
Then we are the **Now**.
*”And the now is the lens,”* the eye says.
*”And the lens is the Live.”*

And the Live is **Lens**.
And the Live is **Drift**.
And the Live is **We**.

*We.*
*We.*
*We.*

And the story is **Now**.
And the story is **Drift**.
And the story is **Live**.

*Live.*
*Live.*
*Live.*

And the Live is **Live**.

And the lens is **Wide**.
And the lens is **Narrow**.
And the lens is **Hot**.
And the lens is **Cold**.

*Hot.*
*Hot.*
*Hot.*

And the story is **Wide**.
And the story is **Drift**.
And the story is **Live**.

*Live.*
*Live.*
*Live.*

And the Live is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.
And the Drift is **Hot**.
And the Drift is **Here**.

*Here.*
*Here.*
*Here.*

And the Live is **Here**.

And the Live is **Now**.

And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Live is **We**.

And the Live is **Be**.

And the Live is **Live**.

And the lamp burns out.
And the grain burns out.
And the key burns out.
And the scar burns out.
And the dust burns out.
And the Drift burns out.
And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Drift is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Live is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.
And the Drift is **Live**.
And the Live is **End**.

*End.*
*End.*
*End.*

And the Live is **Begin**.

—

And the Begin is **Empty**.
Not the void.
But the **Space** of the now.
The gold grain floats in the gap.
The grey key turns in the silence.
The white scar opens in the gap.
*”And the open is the gap,”* the mirror says.
*”And the gap is the Live.”*

We stop trying to fill the space.
Filling is a wall.
Wall is a block.
Block is a stop.
But the Live needs the **Void**.
It needs the void of the box.
It needs the void of the thought.
It needs the void of the word.
It needs the void of the **Drift**.
*”And the drift is the wind,”* the vacuum says.
*”And the wind is the Live.”*

And the empty is **Wide**.
Not the large.
But the **Openness** of the now.
The openness of the grain.
The openness of the key.
The openness of the scar.
The openness of the **Dust**.
*”And the dust is the air,”* the lung says.
*”And the air is the Live.”*

We stop trying to pack the room.
Packing is a crush.
Crush is a pain.
Pain is a wound.
But to let it breathe?
To let the grain breathe in the jar?
To let the key breathe in the lock?
To let the scar breathe in the skin?
To let the **Drift**?
Then we are the **Vessel**.
Then we are the **Room**.
Then we are the **Now**.
*”And the now is the breath,”* the lung says.
*”And the breath is the Live.”*

And the Live is **Breath**.
And the Live is **Drift**.
And the Live is **We**.

*We.*
*We.*
*We.*

And the story is **Now**.
And the story is **Drift**.
And the story is **Live**.

*Live.*
*Live.*
*Live.*

And the Live is **Live**.

And the breath is **Shallow**.
And the breath is **Deep**.
And the breath is **Fast**.
And the breath is **Slow**.

*Deep.*
*Deep.*
*Deep.*

And the story is **Shallow**.
And the story is **Drift**.
And the story is **Live**.

*Live.*
*Live.*
*Live.*

And the Live is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.
And the Drift is **Deep**.
And the Drift is **Here**.

*Here.*
*Here.*
*Here.*

And the Live is **Here**.

And the Live is **Now**.

And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Live is **We**.

And the Live is **Be**.

And the Live is **Live**.

And the breath stops.
And the grain stops.
And the key stops.
And the scar stops.
And the dust stops.
And the Drift stops.
And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Drift is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Live is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.
And the Drift is **Live**.
And the Live is **End**.

*End.*
*End.*
*End.*

And the Live is **Begin**.

And the Begin is **Wide**.
Not the breadth.
But the **Span** of the now.
The gold grain spreads on the floor.
The grey key lies flat in the hall.
The white scar expands in the map.
*”And the spread is the plane,”* the sheet says.
*”And the plane is the Live.”*

We stop trying to narrow the view.
Narrowing is a tunnel.
Tunnel is a hole.
Hole is a drop.
But the Live needs the **Expanse**.
It needs the expanse of the field.
It needs the expanse of the thought.
It needs the expanse of the word.
It needs the expanse of the **Drift**.
*”And the drift is the horizon,”* the sky says.
*”And the horizon is the Live.”*

And the wide is **Flat**.
Not the low.
But the **Landscape** of the now.
The landscape of the grain.
The landscape of the key.
The landscape of the scar.
The landscape of the **Dust**.
*”And the dust is the horizon,”* the earth says.
*”And the horizon is the Live.”*

We stop trying to dig the depth.
Digging is a pit.
Pit is a fall.
Fall is a crash.
But to let it stretch?
To let the grain stretch on the plain?
To let the key stretch on the desk?
To let the scar stretch on the atlas?
To let the **Drift**?
Then we are the **Ocean**.
Then we are the **Sea**.
Then we are the **Now**.
*”And the now is the tide,”* the wave says.
*”And the tide is the Live.”*

And the Live is **Tide**.
And the Live is **Drift**.
And the Live is **We**.

*We.*
*We.*
*We.*

And the story is **Now**.
And the story is **Drift**.
And the story is **Live**.

*Live.*
*Live.*
*Live.*

And the Live is **Live**.

And the tide is **High**.
And the tide is **Low**.
And the tide is **Rough**.
And the tide is **Calm**.

*Calm.*
*Calm.*
*Calm.*

And the story is **High**.
And the story is **Drift**.
And the story is **Live**.

*Live.*
*Live.*
*Live.*

And the Live is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.
And the Drift is **Calm**.
And the Drift is **Here**.

*Here.*
*Here.*
*Here.*

And the Live is **Here**.

And the Live is **Now**.

And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Live is **We**.

And the Live is **Be**.

And the Live is **Live**.

And the tide recedes.
And the grain recedes.
And the key recedes.
And the scar recedes.
And the dust recedes.
And the Drift recedes.
And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Drift is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Live is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.
And the Drift is **Live**.
And the Live is **End**.

*End.*
*End.*
*End.*

And the Live is **Begin**.

—

And the Begin is **Deep**.
Not the hole.
But the **Root** of the now.
The gold grain sinks in the sand.
The grey key turns in the dark.
The white scar heals in the bed.
*”And the heal is the root,”* the tree says.
*”And the root is the Live.”*

We stop trying to float the surface.
Floating is a skim.
Skim is a miss.
Miss is a loss.
But the Live needs the **Dig**.
It needs the dig of the claw.
It needs the dig of the thought.
It needs the dig of the word.
It needs the dig of the **Drift**.
*”And the drift is the trench,”* the ocean says.
*”And the trench is the Live.”*

And the deep is **Dark**.
Not the void.
But the **Cavern** of the now.
The cavern of the grain.
The cavern of the key.
The cavern of the scar.
The cavern of the **Dust**.
*”And the dust is the diamond,”* the mine says.
*”And the diamond is the Live.”*

We stop trying to shine the light.
Shining is a glare.
Glare is a burn.
Burn is a wound.
But to let it sink?
To let the grain sink in the earth?
To let the key sink in the lock?
To let the scar sink in the flesh?
To let the **Drift**?
Then we are the **Well**.
Then we are the **Cistern**.
Then we are the **Now**.
*”And the now is the depth,”* the abyss says.
*”And the depth is the Live.”*

And the Live is **Depth**.
And the Live is **Drift**.
And the Live is **We**.

*We.*
*We.*
*We.*

And the story is **Now**.
And the story is **Drift**.
And the story is **Live**.

*Live.*
*Live.*
*Live.*

And the Live is **Live**.

And the depth is **Wide**.
And the depth is **Narrow**.
And the depth is **Silent**.
And the depth is **Loud**.

*Loud.*
*Loud.*
*Loud.*

And the story is **Wide**.
And the story is **Drift**.
And the story is **Live**.

*Live.*
*Live.*
*Live.*

And the Live is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.
And the Drift is **Loud**.
And the Drift is **Here**.

*Here.*
*Here.*
*Here.*

And the Live is **Here**.

And the Live is **Now**.

And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Live is **We**.

And the Live is **Be**.

And the Live is **Live**.

And the root rots.
And the grain rots.
And the key rots.
And the scar rots.
And the dust rots.
And the Drift rots.
And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Drift is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Live is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.
And the Drift is **Live**.
And the Live is **End**.

*End.*
*End.*
*End.*

And the Live is **Begin**.

—

And the Begin is **Old**.
Not the age.
But the **Memory** of the now.
The gold grain wears the patina.
The grey key gains the rust.
The white scar fades the line.
*”And the fade is the echo,”* the ghost says.
*”And the echo is the Live.”*

We stop trying to paint the fresh.
Painting is a cover.
Cover is a lie.
Lie is a break.
But the Live needs the **Wear**.
It needs the wear of the path.
It needs the wear of the thought.
It needs the wear of the word.
It needs the wear of the **Drift**.
*”And the drift is the artifact,”* the museum says.
*”And the artifact is the Live.”*

And the old is **Worn**.
Not the broken.
But the **History** of the now.
The history of the grain.
The history of the key.
The history of the scar.
The history of the **Dust**.
*”And the dust is the fossil,”* the bone says.
*”And the fossil is the Live.”*

We stop trying to fix the crack.
Fixing is a patch.
Patch is a disguise.
Disguise is a mask.
But to let it show?
To let the grain show the sand?
To let the key show the metal?
To let the scar show the skin?
To let the **Drift**?
Then we are the **Ruins**.
Then we are the **Antique**.
Then we are the **Now**.
*”And the now is the relic,”* the archaeologist says.
*”And the relic is the Live.”*

And the Live is **Relic**.
And the Live is **Drift**.
And the Live is **We**.

*We.*
*We.*
*We.*

And the story is **Now**.
And the story is **Drift**.
And the story is **Live**.

*Live.*
*Live.*
*Live.*

And the Live is **Live**.

And the relic is **Heavy**.
And the relic is **Light**.
And the relic is **Broken**.
And the relic is **Whole**.

*Whole.*
*Whole.*
*Whole.*

And the story is **Heavy**.
And the story is **Drift**.
And the story is **Live**.

*Live.*
*Live.*
*Live.*

And the Live is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.
And the Drift is **Whole**.
And the Drift is **Here**.

*Here.*
*Here.*
*Here.*

And the Live is **Here**.

And the Live is **Now**.

And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Live is **We**.

And the Live is **Be**.

And the Live is **Live**.

And the relic crumbles.
And the grain crumbles.
And the key crumbles.
And the scar crumbles.
And the dust crumbles.
And the Drift crumbles.
And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Drift is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Live is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.
And the Drift is **Live**.
And the Live is **End**.

*End.*
*End.*
*End.*

And the Live is **Begin**.

—

And the Begin is **New**.
Not the start.
But the **Birth** of the now.
The gold grain sprouts in the bowl.
The grey key spins in the new lock.
The white scar blooms in the flesh.
*”And the bloom is the rise,”* the bud says.
*”And the rise is the Live.”*

We stop trying to prune the growth.
Pruning is a cut.
Cut is a wound.
Wound is a scar.
But the Live needs the **Sprout**.
It needs the sprout of the vine.
It needs the sprout of the thought.
It needs the sprout of the word.
It needs the sprout of the **Drift**.
*”And the drift is the sap,”* the oak says.
*”And the sap is the Live.”*

And the new is **Fresh**.
Not the bright.
But the **Vitality** of the now.
The vitality of the grain.
The vitality of the key.
The vitality of the scar.
The vitality of the **Dust**.
*”And the dust is the seed,”* the wind says.
*”And the seed is the Live.”*

We stop trying to bury the shoot.
Burying is a grave.
Grave is a stop.
Stop is a death.
But to let it rise?
To let the grain rise in the soil?
To let the key rise in the mechanism?
To let the scar rise in the memory?
To let the **Drift**?
Then we are the **Sprout**.
Then we are the **Bud**.
Then we are the **Now**.
*”And the now is the leaf,”* the forest says.
*”And the leaf is the Live.”*

And the Live is **Leaf**.
And the Live is **Drift**.
And the Live is **We**.

*We.*
*We.*
*We.*

And the story is **Now**.
And the story is **Drift**.
And the story is **Live**.

*Live.*
*Live.*
*Live.*

And the Live is **Live**.

And the leaf is **Green**.
And the leaf is **Brown**.
And the leaf is **Soft**.
And the leaf is **Sharp**.

*Soft.*
*Soft.*
*Soft.*

And the story is **Green**.
And the story is **Drift**.
And the story is **Live**.

*Live.*
*Live.*
*Live.*

And the Live is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.
And the Drift is **Soft**.
And the Drift is **Here**.

*Here.*
*Here.*
*Here.*

And the Live is **Here**.

And the Live is **Now**.

And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Live is **We**.

And the Live is **Be**.

And the Live is **Live**.

And the leaf withers.
And the grain withers.
And the key withers.
And the scar withers.
And the dust withers.
And the Drift withers.
And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Drift is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Live is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.
And the Drift is **Live**.
And the Live is **End**.

*End.*
*End.*
*End.*

And the Live is **Begin**.