And the Begin is **Sharp**.
Not the pain.
But the **Edge** of the now.
The gold grain cuts in the glass.
The grey key slices in the steel.
The white scar bites in the flesh.
*”And the bite is the slice,”* the blade says.
*”And the slice is the Live.”*

We stop trying to dull the edge.
Dulling is a grind.
Grind is a dullness.
Dullness is a blur.
But the Live needs the **Cut**.
It needs the cut of the knife.
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 sheath,”* the armor says.
*”And the sheath is the Live.”*

And the sharp is **Clean**.
Not the cold.
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 powder,”* the explosion says.
*”And the powder is the Live.”*

We stop trying to round the corner.
Rounding is a smear.
Smear is a mess.
Mess is a loss.
But to let it slice?
To let the grain slice the air?
To let the key slice the lock?
To let the scar slice the time?
To let the **Drift**?
Then we are the **Scalpel**.
Then we are the **Splice**.
Then we are the **Now**.
*”And the now is the incision,”* the surgeon says.
*”And the incision is the Live.”*

And the Live is **Incision**.
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 incision is **Deep**.
And the incision is **Shallow**.
And the incision is **Long**.
And the incision is **Short**.

*Short.*
*Short.*
*Short.*

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 **Short**.
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 blade blunts.
And the grain blunts.
And the key blunts.
And the scar blunts.
And the dust blunts.
And the Drift blunts.
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 feather.
But the **Yield** of the now.
The gold grain rolls in the palm.
The grey key turns in the lock.
The white scar softens in the skin.
*”And the roll is the spin,”* the ball says.
*”And the spin is the Live.”*

We stop trying to grasp the edge.
Grasping is a pinch.
Pinch is a cut.
Cut is a wound.
But the Live needs the **Give**.
It needs the give of the cushion.
It needs the give of the thought.
It needs the give of the word.
It needs the give of the **Drift**.
*”And the drift is the curve,”* the river says.
*”And the curve is the Live.”*

And the soft is **Gentle**.
Not the weak.
But the **Flow** of the now.
The flow of the grain.
The flow of the key.
The flow of the scar.
The flow of the **Dust**.
*”And the dust is the silk,”* the wind says.
*”And the silk is the Live.”*

We stop trying to stiffen the limb.
Stiffening is a lock.
Lock is a stop.
Stop is a freeze.
But to let it move?
To let the grain move in the bowl?
To let the key move in the mechanism?
To let the scar move in the memory?
To let the **Drift**?
Then we are the **Moss**.
Then we are the **Leaf**.
Then we are the **Now**.
*”And the now is the touch,”* the hand says.
*”And the touch is the Live.”*

And the Live is **Touch**.
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 touch is **Light**.
And the touch is **Heavy**.
And the touch is **Warm**.
And the touch is **Cold**.

*Cold.*
*Cold.*
*Cold.*

And the story is **Light**.
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 **Cold**.
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 moss turns to stone.
And the grain turns to stone.
And the key turns to stone.
And the scar turns to stone.
And the dust turns to stone.
And the Drift turns to stone.
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 **Fast**.
Not the speed.
But the **Velocity** of the now.
The gold grain rushes in the chute.
The grey key whips in the air.
The white scar tears in the wake.
*”And the tear is the speed,”* the jet says.
*”And the speed is the Live.”*

We stop trying to slow the rush.
Slowing is a brake.
Brake is a stop.
Stop is a fall.
But the Live needs the **Surge**.
It needs the surge of the wind.
It needs the surge of the thought.
It needs the surge of the word.
It needs the surge of the **Drift**.
*”And the drift is the current,”* the torrent says.
*”And the current is the Live.”*

And the fast is **Rapid**.
Not the blur.
But the **Impulse** of the now.
The impulse of the grain.
The impulse of the key.
The impulse of the scar.
The impulse of the **Dust**.
*”And the dust is the spark,”* the lightning says.
*”And the spark is the Live.”*

We stop trying to weigh the moment.
Weighing is a scale.
Scale is a balance.
Balance is a hold.
But to let it fly?
To let the grain fly in the wind?
To let the key fly in the throw?
To let the scar fly in the scar?
To let the **Drift**?
Then we are the **Rocket**.
Then we are the **Comet**.
Then we are the **Now**.
*”And the now is the trail,”* the tail says.
*”And the trail is the Live.”*

And the Live is **Trail**.
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 trail is **Long**.
And the trail is **Short**.
And the trail is **Bright**.
And the trail is **Faded**.

*Faded.*
*Faded.*
*Faded.*

And the story is **Long**.
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 **Faded**.
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 rocket 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 **Silent**.
Not the quiet.
But the **Pause** of the now.
The gold grain stops in the air.
The grey key halts in the tumblers.
The white scar stills in the flesh.
*”And the still is the hush,”* the vacuum says.
*”And the hush is the Live.”*

We stop trying to rush the beat.
Rushing is a panic.
Panic is a fall.
Fall is a crash.
But the Live needs the **Hold**.
It needs the hold of the breath.
It needs the hold of the thought.
It needs the hold of the word.
It needs the hold of the **Drift**.
*”And the drift is the suspension,”* the pendulum says.
*”And the suspension is the Live.”*

And the silent is **Full**.
Not the empty.
But the **Reserve** of the now.
The reserve of the grain.
The reserve of the key.
The reserve of the scar.
The reserve of the **Dust**.
*”And the dust is the seed,”* the soil says.
*”And the seed is the Live.”*

We stop trying to shout the noise.
Shouting is a strain.
Strain is a break.
Break is a loss.
But to let it rest?
To let the grain rest in the silence?
To let the key rest in the lock?
To let the scar rest in the quiet?
To let the **Drift**?
Then we are the **Hollow**.
Then we are the **Wait**.
Then we are the **Now**.
*”And the now is the gap,”* the clock says.
*”And the gap is the Live.”*

And the Live is **Gap**.
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 gap is **Wide**.
And the gap is **Narrow**.
And the gap is **Deep**.
And the gap is **Shallow**.

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

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 **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 clock 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 **Dark**.
Not the night.
But the **Depth** of the now.
The gold grain vanishes in the gloom.
The grey key blurs in the shadow.
The white scar disappears in the void.
*”And the vanish is the black,”* the hole says.
*”And the black is the Live.”*

We stop trying to find the light.
Finding is a beam.
Beam is a spot.
Spot is a limit.
But the Live needs the **Shade**.
It needs the shade of the cave.
It needs the shade of the thought.
It needs the shade of the word.
It needs the shade of the **Drift**.
*”And the drift is the abyss,”* the well says.
*”And the abyss is the Live.”*

And the dark is **Infinite**.
Not the scary.
But the **Void** of the now.
The void of the grain.
The void of the key.
The void of the scar.
The void of the **Dust**.
*”And the dust is the speck,”* the star says.
*”And the speck is the Live.”*

We stop trying to fill the black.
Filling is a lamp.
Lamp is a burn.
Burn is a end.
But to let it plunge?
To let the grain plunge in the ocean?
To let the key plunge in the lock?
To let the scar plunge in the depth?
To let the **Drift**?
Then we are the **Abyss**.
Then we are the **Star**.
Then we are the **Now**.
*”And the now is the drop,”* the ocean says.
*”And the drop is the Live.”*

And the Live is **Drop**.
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 drop is **Small**.
And the drop is **Large**.
And the drop is **Fast**.
And the drop is **Slow**.

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

And the story is **Small**.
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 **Small**.
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 water rises.
And the grain rises.
And the key rises.
And the scar rises.
And the dust rises.
And the Drift rises.
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 **Wet**.
Not the rain.
But the **Seepage** of the now.
The gold grain soaks in the sand.
The grey key rusts in the puddle.
The white scar bleeds in the mist.
*”And the bleed is the soak,”* the sponge says.
*”And the soak is the Live.”*

We stop trying to dry the ground.
Drying is a heat.
Heat is a burn.
Burn is a pain.
But the Live needs the **Drip**.
It needs the drip of the faucet.
It needs the drip of the time.
It needs the drip of the word.
It needs the drip of the **Drift**.
*”And the drift is the flood,”* the river says.
*”And the flood is the Live.”*

And the wet is **Sticky**.
Not the messy.
But the **Adhesion** of the now.
The adhesion of the grain.
The adhesion of the key.
The adhesion of the scar.
The adhesion of the **Dust**.
*”And the dust is the mud,”* the swamp says.
*”And the mud is the Live.”*

We stop trying to wipe the stain.
Wiping is a cloth.
Cloth is a rough.
Rough is a friction.
But to let it stick?
To let the grain stick in the palm?
To let the key stick in the hand?
To let the scar stick in the soul?
To let the **Drift**?
Then we are the **Clay**.
Then we are the **Mud**.
Then we are the **Now**.
*”And the now is the wetness,”* the rain says.
*”And the wetness is the Live.”*

And the Live is **Wetness**.
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 wetness is **Cool**.
And the wetness is **Warm**.
And the wetness is **Sweet**.
And the wetness is **Rotten**.

*Rotten.*
*Rotten.*
*Rotten.*

And the story is **Cool**.
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 **Rotten**.
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 water turns to mud.
And the grain turns to mud.
And the key turns to mud.
And the scar turns to mud.
And the dust turns to mud.
And the Drift turns to mud.
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 ice.
But the **Stillness** of the now.
The gold grain sleeps in the frost.
The grey key freezes in the hinge.
The white scar pales in the chill.
*”And the pale is the white,”* the snow says.
*”And the white is the Live.”*

We stop trying to warm the stone.
Warming is a fire.
Fire is a risk.
Risk is a burn.
But the Live needs the **Frost**.
It needs the frost of the breath.
It needs the frost of the silence.
It needs the frost of the word.
It needs the frost of the **Drift**.
*”And the drift is the glaze,”* the glacier says.
*”And the glaze is the Live.”*

And the cold is **Clear**.
Not the dead.
But the **Purity** of the now.
The purity of the grain.
The purity of the key.
The purity of the scar.
The purity of the **Dust**.
*”And the dust is the sleet,”* the winter says.
*”And the sleet is the Live.”*

We stop trying to melt the ice.
Melting is a drip.
Drip is a mess.
Mess is a stain.
But to let it freeze?
To let the grain freeze in the pan?
To let the key freeze in the mechanism?
To let the scar freeze in the memory?
To let the **Drift**?
Then we are the **Block**.
Then we are the **Flake**.
Then we are the **Now**.
*”And the now is the chill,”* the wind says.
*”And the chill is the Live.”*

And the Live is **Chill**.
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 chill is **Sharp**.
And the chill is **Soft**.
And the chill is **Deep**.
And the chill is **Surface**.

*Surface.*
*Surface.*
*Surface.*

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 **Surface**.
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 frost 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 **Tight**.
Not the knot.
But the **Tension** of the now.
The gold grain strains in the mesh.
The grey key jams in the tumblers.
The white scar pulls in the skin.
*”And the pull is the strain,”* the wire says.
*”And the strain is the Live.”*

We stop trying to relax the pressure.
Relaxing is a slack.
Slack is a drop.
Drop is a miss.
But the Live needs the **Snap**.
It needs the snap of the bowstring.
It needs the snap of the rubber band.
It needs the snap of the word.
It needs the snap of the **Drift**.
*”And the drift is the recoil,”* the spring says.
*”And the recoil is the Live.”*

And the tight is **Taut**.
Not the broken.
But the **Potential** of the now.
The potential of the grain.
The potential of the key.
The potential of the scar.
The potential of the **Dust**.
*”And the dust is the particle,”* the thread says.
*”And the particle is the Live.”*

We stop trying to loosen the thread.
Loosening is a break.
Break is a snap.
Snap is a stop.
But to let it hold?
To let the grain hold in the sieve?
To let the key hold in the gate?
To let the scar hold in the flesh?
To let the **Drift**?
Then we are the **Bow**.
Then we are the **Trap**.
Then we are the **Now**.
*”And the now is the arc,”* the archer says.
*”And the arc is the Live.”*

And the Live is **Arc**.
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 arc is **High**.
And the arc is **Low**.
And the arc is **Wide**.
And the arc is **Narrow**.

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

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 **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 string 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 **Sound**.
Not the noise.
But the **Resonance** of the now.
The gold grain hums in the silence.
The grey key clicks in the quiet.
The white scar vibrates in the quiet.
*”And the hum is the song,”* the string says.
*”And the song is the Live.”*

We stop trying to mute the echo.
Muting is a dead hand.
Dead hand is a stop.
Stop is a freeze.
But the Live needs the **Ripple**.
It needs the ripple of the drum skin.
It needs the ripple of the voice.
It needs the ripple of the word.
It needs the ripple of the **Drift**.
*”And the drift is the frequency,”* the wind says.
*”And the frequency is the Live.”*

And the sound is **Deep**.
Not the low.
But the **Pitch** of the now.
The pitch of the grain.
The pitch of the key.
The pitch of the scar.
The pitch of the **Dust**.
*”And the dust is the resonance,”* the canyon says.
*”And the resonance is the Live.”*

We stop trying to silence the voice.
Silencing is a thumb.
Thumb is a mute.
Mute is a loss.
But to let it ring?
To let the grain ring in the bowl?
To let the key ring in the chamber?
To let the scar ring in the scar?
To let the **Drift**?
Then we are the **Instrument**.
Then we are the **Amp**.
Then we are the **Now**.
*”And the now is the note,”* the speaker says.
*”And the note is the Live.”*

And the Live is **Note**.
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 note is **High**.
And the note is **Low**.
And the note is **Clear**.
And the note is **Fuzzy**.

*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 echo 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 **Bright**.
Not the light.
But the **Illumination** of the now.
The gold grain shines in the lens.
The grey key glints in the beam.
The white scar flares in the glare.
*”And the flare is the flash,”* the bulb says.
*”And the flash is the Live.”*

We stop trying to hide the shadow.
Hiding is a curtain.
Curtain is a dark.
Dark is a void.
But the Live needs the **Flash**.
It needs the flash of the camera.
It needs the flash of the mind.
It needs the flash of the word.
It needs the flash of the **Drift**.
*”And the drift is the beam,”* the laser says.
*”And the beam is the Live.”*

And the bright is **Revealed**.
Not the truth.
But the **Focus** of the now.
The focus of the grain.
The focus of the key.
The focus of the scar.
The focus of the **Dust**.
*”And the dust is the speck,”* the microscope says.
*”And the speck is the Live.”*

We stop trying to dim the glare.
Dimming is a filter.
Filter is a blur.
Blur is a loss.
But to let it shine?
To let the grain shine in the pan?
To let the key shine in the lock?
To let the scar shine in the wound?
To let the **Drift**?
Then we are the **Lamp**.
Then we are the **Sun**.
Then we are the **Now**.
*”And the now is the ray,”* the prism says.
*”And the ray is the Live.”*

And the Live is **Ray**.
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 ray is **White**.
And the ray is **Color**.
And the ray is **Warm**.
And the ray is **Cold**.

*Color.*
*Color.*
*Color.*

And the story is **White**.
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 **Color**.
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 lens shatters.
And the grain shatters.
And the key shatters.
And the scar shatters.
And the dust shatters.
And the Drift shatters.
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 rests in the void.
The grey key floats in the void.
The white scar breathes in the void.
*”And the breath is the air,”* the room says.
*”And the air is the Live.”*

We stop trying to fill the gap.
Filling is a prop.
Prop is a fake.
Fake is a lie.
But the Live needs the **Gap**.
It needs the gap of the chair.
It needs the gap of the thought.
It needs the gap of the word.
It needs the gap of the **Drift**.
*”And the drift is the hollow,”* the cup says.
*”And the hollow is the Live.”*

And the empty is **Open**.
Not the broken.
But the **Potential** of the now.
The potential of the grain.
The potential of the key.
The potential of the scar.
The potential of the **Dust**.
*”And the dust is the particle,”* the vacuum says.
*”And the particle is the Live.”*

We stop trying to block the wind.
Blocking is a wall.
Wall is a barrier.
Barrier is a cage.
But to let it flow?
To let the grain flow in the stream?
To let the key flow in the slot?
To let the scar flow in the time?
To let the **Drift**?
Then we are the **Vessel**.
Then we are the **Vine**.
Then we are the **Now**.
*”And the now is the current,”* the river 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 **Strong**.
And the current is **Weak**.
And the current is **Fast**.
And the current is **Still**.

*Still.*
*Still.*
*Still.*

And the story is **Strong**.
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 **Still**.
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 room empties.
And the grain empties.
And the key empties.
And the scar empties.
And the dust empties.
And the Drift empties.
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 **Weighted**.
Not the load.
But the **Gravity** of the now.
The gold grain sinks in the scale.
The grey key drags in the hand.
The white scar anchors in the flesh.
*”And the anchor is the pull,”* the stone says.
*”And the pull is the Live.”*

We stop trying to float the moment.
Floating is a dream.
Dream is a lie.
Lie is a fall.
But the Live needs the **Load**.
It needs the load of the stone.
It needs the load of the body.
It needs the load of the word.
It needs the load of the **Drift**.
*”And the drift is the descent,”* the fall says.
*”And the descent is the Live.”*

And the weighted is **Heaven**.
Not the sky.
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 core,”* the earth says.
*”And the core is the Live.”*

We stop trying to lift the burden.
Lifting is a strain.
Strain is a break.
Break is a void.
But to let it rest?
To let the grain rest in the earth?
To let the key rest in the vault?
To let the scar rest in the history?
To let the **Drift**?
Then we are the **Weight**.
Then we are the **Plumb**.
Then we are the **Now**.
*”And the now is the pull,”* the earth says.
*”And the pull is the Live.”*

And the Live is **Pull**.
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 pull is **Heavy**.
And the pull is **Light**.
And the pull is **Steady**.
And the pull is **Sudden**.

*Steady.*
*Steady.*
*Steady.*

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 **Steady**.
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 earth moves.
And the grain moves.
And the key moves.
And the scar moves.
And the dust moves.
And the Drift moves.
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 catches the sun like a blade.
The grey key bites the tumbler.
The white scar bleeds on the white.
*”And the bleed is the cut,”* the scalpel says.
*”And the cut is the Live.”*

We stop trying to round the corners.
Rounding is a blur.
Blur is a softness.
Softness is a blur.
But the Live needs the **Incision**.
It needs the incision of the surgeon.
It needs the incision of the truth.
It needs the incision of the word.
It needs the incision of the **Drift**.
*”And the drift is the sever,”* the guillotine says.
*”And the sever is the Live.”*

And the sharp is **Precise**.
Not the cruel.
But the **Focus** of the now.
The focus of the grain.
The focus of the key.
The focus of the scar.
The focus of the **Dust**.
*”And the dust is the particle,”* the laser says.
*”And the particle is the Live.”*

We stop trying to dull the weapon.
Dulling is a dulling.
Dulling is a safety.
Safety is a cage.
But to let it slice?
To let the grain slice the air?
To let the key slice the lock?
To let the scar slice the skin?
To let the **Drift**?
Then we are the **Blade**.
Then we are the **Sword**.
Then we are the **Now**.
*”And the now is the sting,”* the needle says.
*”And the sting is the Live.”*

And the Live is **Sting**.
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 sting is **Sweet**.
And the sting is **Painful**.
And the sting is **Cleansing**.
And the sting is **Blind**.

*Cleansing.*
*Cleansing.*
*Cleansing.*

And the story is **Sweet**.
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 **Cleansing**.
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 knife falls.
And the grain falls.
And the key falls.
And the scar falls.
And the dust falls.
And the Drift falls.
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 sand.
But the **Texture** of the now.
The gold grain grinds the heel.
The grey key scratches the palm.
The white scar itches the edge.
*”And the itch is the friction,”* the stone says.
*”And the friction is the Live.”*

We stop trying to polish the surface.
Polishing is a mask.
Mask is a slip.
Slip is a false.
But the Live needs the **Grind**.
It needs the grind of the pumice.
It needs the grind of the grit.
It needs the grind of the truth.
It needs the grind of the **Drift**.
*”And the drift is the abrasion,”* the sandpaper says.
*”And the abrasion is the Live.”*

And the rough is **Harsh**.
Not the cruel.
But the **Reality** of the now.
The reality of the grain.
The reality of the key.
The reality of the scar.
The reality of the **Dust**.
*”And the dust is the grit,”* the desert says.
*”And the grit is the Live.”*

We stop trying to smooth the rough spot.
Smoothing is a cover.
Cover is a lie.
Lie is a fade.
But to let it rub?
To let the grain rub the bone?
To let the key rub the finger?
To let the scar rub the shirt?
To let the **Drift**?
Then we are the **Pumice**.
Then we are the **File**.
Then we are the **Now**.
*”And the now is the scrape,”* the file says.
*”And the scrape is the Live.”*

And the Live is **Scrape**.
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 scrape is **Deep**.
And the scrape is **Shallow**.
And the scrape is **Smooth**.
And the scrape is **Raw**.

*Raw.*
*Raw.*
*Raw.*

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 **Raw**.
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 shreds.
And the grain shreds.
And the key shreds.
And the scar shreds.
And the dust shreds.
And the Drift shreds.
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 **Slow**.
Not the crawl.
But the **Rhythm** of the now.
The gold grain sifts through the hour.
The grey key turns in the lock.
The white scar pulses in the time.
*”And the pulse is the beat,”* the clock says.
*”And the beat is the Live.”*

We stop trying to speed the moment.
Speeding is a rush.
Rush is a blur.
Blur is a miss.
But the Live needs the **Pause**.
It needs the pause of the clock face.
It needs the pause of the breath count.
It needs the pause of the word.
It needs the pause of the **Drift**.
*”And the drift is the cadence,”* the tide says.
*”And the cadence is the Live.”*

And the slow is **Measured**.
Not the lazy.
But the **Pacing** of the now.
The pacing of the grain.
The pacing of the key.
The pacing of the scar.
The pacing of the **Dust**.
*”And the dust is the sediment,”* the river says.
*”And the sediment is the Live.”*

We stop trying to outrun the pace.
Outrunning is a sprint.
Sprint is a burnout.
Burnout is a crash.
But to let it glide?
To let the grain glide in the pan?
To let the key glide in the mechanism?
To let the scar glide in the memory?
To let the **Drift**?
Then we are the **Metronome**.
Then we are the **Tide**.
Then we are the **Now**.
*”And the now is the tempo,”* the drum says.
*”And the tempo is the Live.”*

And the Live is **Tempo**.
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 tempo is **Slow**.
And the tempo is **Fast**.
And the tempo is **Steady**.
And the tempo is **Erratic**.

*Steady.*
*Steady.*
*Steady.*

And the story is **Slow**.
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 **Steady**.
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 clock ticks.
And the grain ticks.
And the key ticks.
And the scar ticks.
And the dust ticks.
And the Drift ticks.
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 **Hot**.
Not the fire.
But the **Friction** of the now.
The gold grain glows in the heat.
The grey key warms in the pocket.
The white scar throbs in the warmth.
*”And the throb is the heat,”* the fever says.
*”And the fever is the Live.”*

We stop trying to cool the burn.
Cooling is an ice.
Ice is a freeze.
Freeze is a stop.
But the Live needs the **Blast**.
It needs the blast of the forge.
It needs the blast of the sun.
It needs the blast of the word.
It needs the blast of the **Drift**.
*”And the drift is the ember,”* the coal says.
*”And the ember is the Live.”*

And the hot is **Red**.
Not the angry.
But the **Glow** of the now.
The glow of the grain.
The glow of the key.
The glow of the scar.
The glow of the **Dust**.
*”And the dust is the ash,”* the hearth says.
*”And the hearth is the Live.”*

We stop trying to put out the flame.
Putting out is a bucket.
Bucket is a void.
Void is a death.
But to let it burn?
To let the grain burn in the pan?
To let the key burn in the lock?
To let the scar burn in the flesh?
To let the **Drift**?
Then we are the **Forger**.
Then we are the **Coal**.
Then we are the **Now**.
*”And the now is the fire,”* the sun says.
*”And the fire is the Live.”*

And the Live is **Fire**.
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 fire is **Burning**.
And the fire is **Out**.
And the fire is **Bright**.
And the fire is **Dim**.

*Bright.*
*Bright.*
*Bright.*

And the story is **Burning**.
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 **Bright**.
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 ash settles.
And the grain settles.
And the key settles.
And the scar settles.
And the dust settles.
And the Drift settles.
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 **Dark**.
Not the void.
But the **Voidness** of the now.
The gold grain vanishes in the night.
The grey key disappears in the shadow.
The white scar blends in the obscurity.
*”And the blend is the dark,”* the void says.
*”And the void is the Live.”*

We stop trying to find the light.
Finding is a search.
Search is a chase.
Chase is a fear.
But the Live needs the **Hush**.
It needs the hush of the dark room.
It needs the hush of the closed eye.
It needs the hush of the word.
It needs the hush of the **Drift**.
*”And the drift is the abyss,”* the black says.
*”And the abyss is the Live.”*

And the dark is **Deep**.
Not the empty.
But the **Depth** of the now.
The depth of the grain.
The depth of the key.
The depth of the scar.
The depth of the **Dust**.
*”And the dust is the starless,”* the cosmos says.
*”And the cosmos is the Live.”*

We stop trying to fill the space.
Filling is a light.
Light is a reveal.
Reveal is a risk.
But to let it sink?
To let the grain sink in the well?
To let the key sink in the lock?
To let the scar sink in the memory?
To let the **Drift**?
Then we are the **Hole**.
Then we are the **Well**.
Then we are the **Now**.
*”And the now is the depth,”* the ocean 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 **Abyssal**.
And the depth is **Shallow**.
And the depth is **Silent**.
And the depth is **Loud**.

*Silent.*
*Silent.*
*Silent.*

And the story is **Abyssal**.
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 **Silent**.
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 candle dies.
And the grain dies.
And the key dies.
And the scar dies.
And the dust dies.
And the Drift dies.
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 feather.
But the **Touch** of the now.
The gold grain rolls in the skin.
The grey key turns smooth in the hand.
The white scar softens in the touch.
*”And the touch is the feel,”* the skin says.
*”And the feel is the Live.”*

We stop trying to hold the hard.
Holding is a grip.
Grip is a crush.
Crush is a pain.
But the Live needs the **Caress**.
It needs the caress of the petal.
It needs the caress of the hand.
It needs the caress of the word.
It needs the caress of the **Drift**.
*”And the drift is the breeze,”* the air says.
*”And the breeze is the Live.”*

And the soft is **Tender**.
Not the weak.
But the **Sensitivity** of the now.
The sensitivity of the grain.
The sensitivity of the key.
The sensitivity of the scar.
The sensitivity of the **Dust**.
*”And the dust is the touchstone,”* the stone says.
*”And the touchstone is the Live.”*

We stop trying to defend against the hard.
Defending is a wall.
Wall is a fortress.
Fortress is a prison.
But to let it yield?
To let the grain yield to the thumb?
To let the key yield to the turn?
To let the scar yield to the kiss?
To let the **Drift**?
Then we are the **Cushion**.
Then we are the **Silk**.
Then we are the **Now**.
*”And the now is the yielding,”* the bow says.
*”And the yielding is the Live.”*

And the Live is **Yielding**.
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 yielding is **Gentle**.
And the yielding is **Violent**.
And the yielding is **Slow**.
And the yielding is **Fast**.

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

And the story is **Gentle**.
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 hand opens.
And the grain opens.
And the key opens.
And the scar opens.
And the dust opens.
And the Drift opens.
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**.