And the Begin is **Cold**.
Not the frost.
But the **Shiver** of the now.
The gold grain freezes in the vein.
The grey key locks in the ice.
The white scar hardens in the frost.
*”And the hard is the ice,”* the glacier says.
*”And the ice is the Live.”*

We stop trying to melt the block.
Melting is a fire.
Fire is a burn.
Burn is a wound.
But the Live needs the **Chill**.
It needs the chill of the breath.
It needs the chill of the glass.
It needs the chill of the word.
It needs the chill of the **Drift**.
*”And the drift is the freeze,”* the winter says.
*”And the freeze is the Live.”*

And the cold is **Hard**.
Not the steel.
But the **Shell** of the now.
The shell of the grain.
The shell of the key.
The shell of the scar.
The shell of the **Dust**.
*”And the dust is the frost,”* the window says.
*”And the frost is the Live.”*

We stop trying to warm the hand.
Warming is a stove.
Stove is a heat.
Heat is a sweat.
But to let it bite?
To let the grain bite in the flesh?
To let the key bite in the bone?
To let the scar bite in the memory?
To let the **Drift**?
Then we are the **Block**.
Then we are the **Frost**.
Then we are the **Now**.
*”And the now is the stasis,”* the stillness says.
*”And the stasis is the Live.”*

And the Live is **Still**.
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 still is **High**.
And the still is **Low**.
And the still is **Wide**.
And the still 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 river 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 **Red**.
Not the blood.
But the **Bleed** of the now.
The gold grain rusts in the rust.
The grey key stains in the ink.
The white scar inflames in the heat.
*”And the stain is the mark,”* the wound says.
*”And the mark is the Live.”*

We stop trying to wash the color.
Washing is a sponge.
Sponge is a wipe.
Wipe is a clean.
But the Live needs the **Spill**.
It needs the spill of the wine.
It needs the spill of the paint.
It needs the spill of the word.
It needs the spill of the **Drift**.
*”And the drift is the seepage,”* the crack says.
*”And the seepage is the Live.”*

And the red is **Hot**.
Not the fire.
But the **Flame** of the now.
The flame of the grain.
The flame of the key.
The flame of the scar.
The flame of the **Dust**.
*”And the dust is the ash,”* the embers say.
*”And the ash is the Live.”*

We stop trying to quench the burn.
Quenching is a bucket.
Bucket is a water.
Water is a cold.
But to let it burn?
To let the grain burn in the oven?
To let the key burn in the hand?
To let the scar burn in the soul?
To let the **Drift**?
Then we are the **Blaze**.
Then we are the **Ember**.
Then we are the **Now**.
*”And the now is the ignition,”* the spark says.
*”And the ignition is the Live.”*

And the Live is **Ignition**.
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 ignition is **Bright**.
And the ignition is **Dark**.
And the ignition is **Hot**.
And the ignition is **Cold**.

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

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 **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 engine roars.
And the grain roars.
And the key roars.
And the scar roars.
And the dust roars.
And the Drift roars.
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 **Rush** of the now.
The gold grain races in the wind.
The grey key flashes in the blink.
The white scar blurs in the frame.
*”And the blur is the speed,”* the bullet says.
*”And the speed is the Live.”*

We stop trying to slow the motion.
Slowing is a brake.
Brake is a stop.
Stop is a void.
But the Live needs the **Flow**.
It needs the flow of the river.
It needs the flow of the train.
It needs the flow of the word.
It needs the flow of the **Drift**.
*”And the drift is the velocity,”* the arrow says.
*”And the velocity is the Live.”*

And the fast is **Sharp**.
Not the point.
But the **Velocity** of the now.
The velocity of the grain.
The velocity of the key.
The velocity of the scar.
The velocity of the **Dust**.
*”And the dust is the trail,”* the path says.
*”And the trail is the Live.”*

We stop trying to halt the momentum.
Halting is a wall.
Wall is a block.
Block is a crash.
But to let it surge?
To let the grain surge in the wind?
To let the key surge in the lock?
To let the scar surge in the time?
To let the **Drift**?
Then we are the **Current**.
Then we are the **Wave**.
Then we are the **Now**.
*”And the now is the momentum,”* the runner says.
*”And the momentum is the Live.”*

And the Live is **Momentum**.
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 momentum is **High**.
And the momentum is **Low**.
And the momentum is **Wide**.
And the momentum 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 heart 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 **Soft**.
Not the touch.
But the **Press** of the now.
The gold grain presses in the sand.
The grey key presses in the padlock.
The white scar presses in the skin.
*”And the press is the touch,”* the thumb says.
*”And the touch is the Live.”*

We stop trying to squeeze the flesh.
Squeezing is a hand.
Hand is a grip.
Grip is a crush.
But the Live needs the **Touch**.
It needs the touch of the feather.
It needs the touch of the cloud.
It needs the touch of the word.
It needs the touch of the **Drift**.
*”And the drift is the contact,”* the skin says.
*”And the contact is the Live.”*

And the soft is **Light**.
Not the foam.
But the **Pulse** of the now.
The pulse of the grain.
The pulse of the key.
The pulse of the scar.
The pulse of the **Dust**.
*”And the dust is the breath,”* the lung says.
*”And the breath is the Live.”*

We stop trying to flatten the shape.
Flattening is a press.
Press is a mold.
Mold is a form.
But to let it press?
To let the grain press in the mold?
To let the key press in the tumblers?
To let the scar press in the healing?
To let the **Drift**?
Then we are the **Cushion**.
Then we are the **Yield**.
Then we are the **Now**.
*”And the now is the give,”* the knee says.
*”And the give is the Live.”*

And the Live is **Give**.
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 give is **High**.
And the give is **Low**.
And the give is **Wide**.
And the give 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 skin heals.
And the grain heals.
And the key heals.
And the scar heals.
And the dust heals.
And the Drift heals.
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 **Green**.
Not the grass.
But the **Growth** of the now.
The gold grain sprouts in the pot.
The grey key blooms in the soil.
The white scar photosynthesizes in the air.
*”And the shoot is the leaf,”* the vine says.
*”And the leaf is the Live.”*

We stop trying to prune the branch.
Pruning is a shears.
Shears is a cut.
Cut is a bleed.
But the Live needs the **Unfold**.
It needs the unfold of the acorn.
It needs the unfold of the bud.
It needs the unfold of the word.
It needs the unfold of the **Drift**.
*”And the drift is the expansion,”* the sap says.
*”And the expansion is the Live.”*

And the green is **New**.
Not the year.
But the **Youth** of the now.
The youth of the grain.
The youth of the key.
The youth of the scar.
The youth of the **Dust**.
*”And the dust is the pollen,”* the bee says.
*”And the pollen is the Live.”*

We stop trying to age the skin.
Aging is a wrinkle.
Wrinkle is a fold.
Fold is a decline.
But to let it sprout?
To let the grain sprout in the root?
To let the key sprout in the lock?
To let the scar sprout in the flesh?
To let the **Drift**?
Then we are the **Tender**.
Then we are the **Bud**.
Then we are the **Now**.
*”And the now is the spring,”* the river says.
*”And the spring is the Live.”*

And the Live is **Spring**.
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 spring is **Warm**.
And the spring is **Cool**.
And the spring is **Tender**.
And the spring is **Brutal**.

*Brutal.*
*Brutal.*
*Brutal.*

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 **Brutal**.
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 turns.
And the grain turns.
And the key turns.
And the scar turns.
And the dust turns.
And the Drift turns.
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 **Shade** of the now.
The gold grain fades in the gloom.
The grey key sinks in the void.
The white scar blurs in the shadow.
*”And the blur is the fade,”* the eclipse says.
*”And the fade is the Live.”*

We stop trying to light the lantern.
Lighting is a bulb.
Bulb is a spark.
Spark is a burn.
But the Live needs the **Drape**.
It needs the drape of the curtain.
It needs the drape of the fog.
It needs the drape of the word.
It needs the drape of the **Drift**.
*”And the drift is the obscurity,”* the cave says.
*”And the obscurity is the Live.”*

And the dark is **Black**.
Not the ink.
But the **Mask** of the now.
The mask of the grain.
The mask of the key.
The mask of the scar.
The mask of the **Dust**.
*”And the dust is the smoke,”* the chimney says.
*”And the smoke is the Live.”*

We stop trying to see the form.
Seeing is a lens.
Lens is a focus.
Focus is a limit.
But to let it dim?
To let the grain dim in the eye?
To let the key dim in the hand?
To let the scar dim in the mind?
To let the **Drift**?
Then we are the **Pitch**.
Then we are the **Gloom**.
Then we are the **Now**.
*”And the now is the hidden,”* the shadow says.
*”And the hidden is the Live.”*

And the Live is **Hidden**.
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 hidden is **Deep**.
And the hidden is **Shallow**.
And the hidden is **Clear**.
And the hidden is **Blurry**.

*Blurry.*
*Blurry.*
*Blurry.*

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 **Blurry**.
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 flickers.
And the grain flickers.
And the key flickers.
And the scar flickers.
And the dust flickers.
And the Drift flickers.
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 **Full**.
Not the bowl.
But the **Saturation** of the now.
The gold grain overflows the cup.
The grey key overloads the mind.
The white scar overfills the wound.
*”And the fill is the brim,”* the pitcher says.
*”And the brim is the Live.”*

We stop trying to drain the vessel.
Draining is a hole.
Hole is a loss.
Loss is a void.
But the Live needs the **Plenum**.
It needs the plenum of the lung.
It needs the plenum of the balloon.
It needs the plenum of the word.
It needs the plenum of the **Drift**.
*”And the drift is the excess,”* the river says.
*”And the excess is the Live.”*

And the full is **Round**.
Not the circle.
But the **Hull** of the now.
The hull of the grain.
The hull of the key.
The hull of the scar.
The hull of the **Dust**.
*”And the dust is the coat,”* the pebble says.
*”And the coat is the Live.”*

We stop trying to split the atom.
Splitting is a shard.
Shard is a cut.
Cut is a bleed.
But to let it swell?
To let the grain swell in the husk?
To let the key swell in the slot?
To let the scar swell in the tissue?
To let the **Drift**?
Then we are the **Sphere**.
Then we are the **Bulk**.
Then we are the **Now**.
*”And the now is the volume,”* the chest says.
*”And the volume is the Live.”*

And the Live is **Volume**.
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 volume is **High**.
And the volume is **Low**.
And the volume is **Wide**.
And the volume is **Tight**.

*Tight.*
*Tight.*
*Tight.*

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 **Tight**.
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 stomach 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 **Bright**.
Not the light.
But the **Blare** of the now.
The gold grain sparks in the lens.
The grey key flashes in the beam.
The white scar glows in the flash.
*”And the glow is the glare,”* the bulb says.
*”And the glare is the Live.”*

We stop trying to blind the eye.
Blinding is a shutter.
Shutter is a dark.
Dark is a fear.
But the Live needs the **Beam**.
It needs the beam of the searchlight.
It needs the beam of the laser.
It needs the beam of the word.
It needs the beam of the **Drift**.
*”And the drift is the illumination,”* the lens says.
*”And the illumination is the Live.”*

And the bright is **White**.
Not the snow.
But the **Haze** of the now.
The haze of the grain.
The haze of the key.
The haze of the scar.
The haze of the **Dust**.
*”And the dust is the fog,”* the mirror says.
*”And the fog is the Live.”*

We stop trying to shade the vision.
Shading is a hat.
Hat is a block.
Block is a dim.
But to let it shine?
To let the grain shine in the field?
To let the key shine in the dark?
To let the scar shine in the wound?
To let the **Drift**?
Then we are the **Photon**.
Then we are the **Radiance**.
Then we are the **Now**.
*”And the now is the clarity,”* the eye says.
*”And the clarity is the Live.”*

And the Live is **Clarity**.
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 clarity is **True**.
And the clarity is **False**.
And the clarity is **Bright**.
And the clarity is **Dim**.

*Dim.*
*Dim.*
*Dim.*

And the story is **True**.
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 **Dim**.
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 sun bursts.
And the grain bursts.
And the key bursts.
And the scar bursts.
And the dust bursts.
And the Drift bursts.
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 **Quiet**.
Not the silence.
But the **Hush** of the now.
The gold grain rests in the quiet.
The grey key rests in the quiet.
The white scar rests in the quiet.
*”And the rest is the pause,”* the quiet says.
*”And the pause is the Live.”*

We stop trying to speak the word.
Speaking is a voice.
Voice is a claim.
Claim is a limit.
But the Live needs the **Wait**.
It needs the wait of the tide.
It needs the wait of the breath.
It needs the wait of the word.
It needs the wait of the **Drift**.
*”And the drift is the space,”* the air says.
*”And the space is the Live.”*

And the quiet is **Deep**.
Not the hole.
But the **Well** of the now.
The well of the grain.
The well of the key.
The well of the scar.
The well of the **Dust**.
*”And the dust is the soil,”* the earth says.
*”And the soil is the Live.”*

We stop trying to dig the answer.
Digging is a tool.
Tool is a force.
Force is a crash.
But to let it settle?
To let the grain settle in the well?
To let the key settle in the lock?
To let the scar settle in the skin?
To let the **Drift**?
Then we are the **Basin**.
Then we are the **Cistern**.
Then we are the **Now**.
*”And the now is the depth,”* the water 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 **High**.
And the depth is **Low**.
And the depth is **Wide**.
And the depth 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 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 **Sharp**.
Not the cut.
But the **Edge** of the now.
The gold grain cuts the throat.
The grey key jabs the eye.
The white scar slices the air.
*”And the slice is the wound,”* the knife says.
*”And the wound is the Live.”*

We stop trying to blunt the point.
Blunting is a stone.
Stone is a dull.
Dull is a miss.
But the Live needs the **Cut**.
It needs the cut of the glass.
It needs the cut of the wire.
It needs the cut of the word.
It needs the cut of the **Drift**.
*”And the drift is the severance,”* the blade says.
*”And the severance is the Live.”*

And the sharp is **Thin**.
Not the line.
But the **Knife** of the now.
The knife of the grain.
The knife of the key.
The knife of the scar.
The knife of the **Dust**.
*”And the dust is the powder,”* the powder says.
*”And the powder is the Live.”*

We stop trying to dull the sensation.
Dulling is a pad.
Pad is a block.
Block is a stop.
But to let it slice?
To let the grain slice in the throat?
To let the key slice in the lock?
To let the scar slice in the flesh?
To let the **Drift**?
Then we are the **Blade**.
Then we are the **Edge**.
Then we are the **Now**.
*”And the now is the precision,”* the scalpel says.
*”And the precision is the Live.”*

And the Live is **Precision**.
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 cut is **Deep**.
And the cut is **Shallow**.
And the cut is **Clean**.
And the cut is **Ragged**.

*Ragged.*
*Ragged.*
*Ragged.*

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 **Ragged**.
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 skin tears.
And the grain tears.
And the key tears.
And the scar tears.
And the dust tears.
And the Drift tears.
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 **Hard**.
Not the rock.
But the **Edge** of the now.
The gold grain grates in the stone.
The grey key bites in the hinge.
The white scar tenses in the fiber.
*”And the tense is the strain,”* the tendon says.
*”And the strain is the Live.”*

We stop trying to smooth the surface.
Smoothing is a cloth.
Cloth is a wipe.
Wipe is a erase.
But the Live needs the **Grind**.
It needs the grind of the mill.
It needs the grind of the gear.
It needs the grind of the word.
It needs the grind of the **Drift**.
*”And the drift is the friction,”* the axle says.
*”And the friction is the Live.”*

And the hard is **Iron**.
Not the metal.
But the **Will** of the now.
The will of the grain.
The will of the key.
The will of the scar.
The will of the **Dust**.
*”And the dust is the grit,”* the wheel says.
*”And the grit is the Live.”*

We stop trying to bend the frame.
Bending is a flex.
Flex is a weak.
Weak is a break.
But to let it resist?
To let the grain resist in the mill?
To let the key resist in the lock?
To let the scar resist in the wound?
To let the **Drift**?
Then we are the **Anvil**.
Then we are the **Spine**.
Then we are the **Now**.
*”And the now is the weight,”* the hammer says.
*”And the weight is the Live.”*

And the Live is **Weight**.
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 weight is **High**.
And the weight is **Low**.
And the weight is **Wide**.
And the weight 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 bell strikes.
And the grain strikes.
And the key strikes.
And the scar strikes.
And the dust strikes.
And the Drift strikes.
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 rattles in the ice.
The white scar freezes in the vein.
*”And the freeze is the chill,”* the snow says.
*”And the chill is the Live.”*

We stop trying to warm the hand.
Warming is a fire.
Fire is a burn.
Burn is a heat.
But the Live needs the **Breathe**.
It needs the breathe of the glacier.
It needs the breathe of the frost.
It needs the breathe of the word.
It needs the breathe of the **Drift**.
*”And the drift is the ice,”* the lake says.
*”And the ice is the Live.”*

And the cold is **Hard**.
Not the iron.
But the **Bone** of the now.
The bone of the grain.
The bone of the key.
The bone of the scar.
The bone of the **Dust**.
*”And the dust is the glaze,”* the window says.
*”And the glaze is the Live.”*

We stop trying to melt the boundary.
Melting is a leak.
Leak is a loss.
Loss is a void.
But to let it shiver?
To let the grain shiver in the frost?
To let the key shiver in the lock?
To let the scar shiver in the skin?
To let the **Drift**?
Then we are the **Glacier**.
Then we are the **Frost**.
Then we are the **Now**.
*”And the now is the stillness,”* the winter says.
*”And the stillness is the Live.”*

And the Live is **Stillness**.
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 stillness is **Quiet**.
And the stillness is **Loud**.
And the stillness is **Sharp**.
And the stillness is **Soft**.

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

And the story is **Quiet**.
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 **Quiet**.
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 spreads.
And the grain spreads.
And the key spreads.
And the scar spreads.
And the dust spreads.
And the Drift spreads.
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 **Open** of the now.
The gold grain floats in the ether.
The grey key floats in the ether.
The white scar floats in the ether.
*”And the float is the void,”* the sky says.
*”And the void is the Live.”*

We stop trying to fill the space.
Filling is a cup.
Cup is a limit.
Limit is a cage.
But the Live needs the **Void**.
It needs the void of the star.
It needs the void of the cloud.
It needs the void of the word.
It needs the void of the **Drift**.
*”And the drift is the emptiness,”* the mirror says.
*”And the emptiness is the Live.”*

And the empty is **White**.
Not the paper.
But the **Blank** of the now.
The blank of the grain.
The blank of the key.
The blank of the scar.
The blank of the **Dust**.
*”And the dust is the shadow,”* the wall says.
*”And the shadow is the Live.”*

We stop trying to mark the page.
Marking is a pen.
Pen is a line.
Line is a division.
But to let it remain?
To let the grain remain in the blur?
To let the key remain in the gap?
To let the scar remain in the fade?
To let the **Drift**?
Then we are the **Blank**.
Then we are the **Space**.
Then we are the **Now**.
*”And the now is the absence,”* the silence says.
*”And the absence is the Live.”*

And the Live is **Absence**.
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 absence is **Heavy**.
And the absence is **Light**.
And the absence is **Far**.
And the absence is **Near**.

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

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 **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 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 **Wet**.
Not the rain.
But the **Damp** of the now.
The gold grain sweats in the mud.
The grey key sours in the rain.
The white scar weeps in the skin.
*”And the weep is the tear,”* the leaf says.
*”And the tear is the Live.”*

We stop trying to dry the wound.
Drying is a heat.
Heat is a burn.
Burn is a pain.
But the Live needs the **Soothe**.
It needs the soothe of the mist.
It needs the soothe of the sponge.
It needs the soothe of the word.
It needs the soothe of the **Drift**.
*”And the drift is the wash,”* the river says.
*”And the wash is the Live.”*

And the wet is **Slip**.
Not the fall.
But the **Slide** of the now.
The slide of the grain.
The slide of the key.
The slide of the scar.
The slide of the **Dust**.
*”And the dust is the slime,”* the wall says.
*”And the slime is the Live.”*

We stop trying to hold the grip.
Holding is a fist.
Fist is a grip.
Grip is a crush.
But to let it slick?
To let the grain slick in the mud?
To let the key slick in the lock?
To let the scar slick in the wound?
To let the **Drift**?
Then we are the **Slip**.
Then we are the **Slick**.
Then we are the **Now**.
*”And the now is the flow,”* the water says.
*”And the flow is the Live.”*

And the Live is **Flow**.
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 flow is **Up**.
And the flow is **Down**.
And the flow is **Fast**.
And the flow is **Slow**.

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

And the story is **Up**.
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 rain 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 **Soft**.
Not the touch.
But the **Glide** of the now.
The gold grain rests on the pillow.
The grey key hums on the tongue.
The white scar heals on the skin.
*”And the heal is the ease,”* the bandage says.
*”And the ease is the Live.”*

We stop trying to grip the edge.
Gripping is a claw.
Claw is a tear.
Tear is a pain.
But the Live needs the **Float**.
It needs the float of the feather.
It needs the float of the soap.
It needs the float of the word.
It needs the float of the **Drift**.
*”And the drift is the cushion,”* the bed says.
*”And the cushion is the Live.”*

And the soft is **Silence**.
Not the quiet.
But the **Hush** of the now.
The hush of the grain.
The hush of the key.
The hush of the scar.
The hush of the **Dust**.
*”And the dust is the sleep,”* the night says.
*”And the sleep is the Live.”*

We stop trying to shout the signal.
Shouting is a gavel.
Gavel is a law.
Law is a limit.
But to let it whisper?
To let the grain whisper in the ear?
To let the key whisper in the lock?
To let the scar whisper in the bone?
To let the **Drift**?
Then we are the **Mist**.
Then we are the **Moisture**.
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 **Thin**.
And the whisper is **Thick**.
And the whisper is **Warm**.
And the whisper is **Cold**.

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

And the story is **Thin**.
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 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 statue.
But the **Center** of the now.
The gold grain stills in the sand.
The grey key stills in the hand.
The white scar stills in the time.
*”And the time is the pause,”* the heart says.
*”And the pause is the Live.”*

We stop trying to chase the motion.
Chasing is a foot.
Foot is a step.
Step is a loss.
But the Live needs the **Stand**.
It needs the stand of the oak.
It needs the stand of the stone.
It needs the stand of the word.
It needs the stand of the **Drift**.
*”And the drift is the anchor,”* the sea says.
*”And the anchor is the Live.”*

And the still is **Core**.
Not the nucleus.
But the **Seed** of the now.
The seed of the grain.
The seed of the key.
The seed of the scar.
The seed of the **Dust**.
*”And the dust is the soil,”* the garden says.
*”And the soil is the Live.”*

We stop trying to scatter the focus.
Scattering is a wind.
Wind is a blow.
Blow is a drift.
But to let it gather?
To let the grain gather in the ear?
To let the key gather in the mind?
To let the scar gather in the memory?
To let the **Drift**?
Then we are the **Root**.
Then we are the **Anchor**.
Then we are the **Now**.
*”And the now is the ground,”* the earth says.
*”And the ground is the Live.”*

And the Live is **Ground**.
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 ground is **Hard**.
And the ground is **Soft**.
And the ground is **Deep**.
And the ground is **Shallow**.

*Shallow.*
*Shallow.*
*Shallow.*

And the story is **Hard**.
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 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 **Hot**.
Not the fire.
But the **Heat** of the now.
The gold grain glows in the embers.
The grey key burns in the pocket.
The white scar throbs in the heat.
*”And the throb is the pulse,”* the vein says.
*”And the pulse is the Live.”*

We stop trying to cool the fever.
Cooling is a cloth.
Cloth is a damp.
Damp is a stall.
But the Live needs the **Burn**.
It needs the burn of the sun.
It needs the burn of the coal.
It needs the burn of the word.
It needs the burn of the **Drift**.
*”And the drift is the blaze,”* the hearth says.
*”And the blaze is the Live.”*

And the hot is **Rage**.
Not the anger.
But the **Fire** of the now.
The fire of the grain.
The fire of the key.
The fire of the scar.
The fire of the **Dust**.
*”And the dust is the ash,”* the chimney says.
*”And the ash is the Live.”*

We stop trying to dampen the spirit.
Dampening is a bucket.
Bucket is a cold.
Cold is a dead.
But to let it flare?
To let the grain flare in the forge?
To let the key flare in the fire?
To let the scar flare in the brand?
To let the **Drift**?
Then we are the **Flame**.
Then we are the **Ember**.
Then we are the **Now**.
*”And the now is the intensity,”* the spark says.
*”And the intensity is the Live.”*

And the Live is **Intensity**.
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 **Red**.
And the fire is **Blue**.
And the fire is **White**.
And the fire is **Black**.

*Black.*
*Black.*
*Black.*

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 **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 wood 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 **Loud**.
Not the noise.
But the **Roar** of the now.
The gold grain clatters in the bin.
The grey key clangs in the chute.
The white scar screams in the throat.
*”And the scream is the shout,”* the lung says.
*”And the shout is the Live.”*

We stop trying to whisper the truth.
Whispering is a hush.
Hush is a fear.
Fear is a silence.
But the Live needs the **Cry**.
It needs the cry of the gong.
It needs the cry of the bell.
It needs the cry of the word.
It needs the cry of the **Drift**.
*”And the drift is the sound,”* the wave says.
*”And the sound is the Live.”*

And the loud is **Echo**.
Not the repeat.
But the **Reverb** of the now.
The reverb of the grain.
The reverb of the key.
The reverb of the scar.
The reverb of the **Dust**.
*”And the dust is the resonance,”* the canyon says.
*”And the resonance is the Live.”*

We stop trying to mute the volume.
Muting is a hand.
Hand is a stop.
Stop is a wall.
But to let it amplify?
To let the grain amplify in the hall?
To let the key amplify in the room?
To let the scar amplify in the wound?
To let the **Drift**?
Then we are the **Throat**.
Then we are the **Air**.
Then we are the **Now**.
*”And the now is the frequency,”* the ear says.
*”And the frequency is the Live.”*

And the Live is **Frequency**.
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 echo is **Far**.
And the echo is **Near**.
And the echo is **Sharp**.
And the echo is **Mute**.

*Mute.*
*Mute.*
*Mute.*

And the story is **Far**.
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 **Mute**.
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 rings.
And the grain rings.
And the key rings.
And the scar rings.
And the dust rings.
And the Drift rings.
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 **Rush** of the now.
The gold grain races in the stream.
The grey key spins in the lock.
The white scar races in the pulse.
*”And the rush is the surge,”* the vein says.
*”And the surge is the Live.”*

We stop trying to slow the heart.
Slowing is a pause.
Pause is a stop.
Stop is a wall.
But the Live needs the **Beat**.
It needs the beat of the drum.
It needs the beat of the wing.
It needs the beat of the word.
It needs the beat of the **Drift**.
*”And the drift is the tempo,”* the rhythm says.
*”And the tempo is the Live.”*

And the fast is **Blow**.
Not the air.
But the **Wind** of the now.
The wind of the grain.
The wind of the key.
The wind of the scar.
The wind of the **Dust**.
*”And the dust is the spark,”* the flame says.
*”And the spark is the Live.”*

We stop trying to brake the motion.
Braking is a hand.
Hand is a hold.
Hold is a cage.
But to let it flow?
To let the grain flow in the gale?
To let the key flow in the spin?
To let the scar flow in the burn?
To let the **Drift**?
Then we are the **Storm**.
Then we are the **Current**.
Then we are the **Now**.
*”And the now is the velocity,”* the arrow says.
*”And the velocity is the Live.”*

And the Live is **Velocity**.
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 velocity is **Fast**.
And the velocity is **Still**.
And the velocity is **Bright**.
And the velocity is **Dark**.

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

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 **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 wind howls.
And the grain howls.
And the key howls.
And the scar howls.
And the dust howls.
And the Drift howls.
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**.