And the Begin is **Hard**.
Not the rock.
But the **Grit** of the now.
The gold grain grinds in the stone.
The grey key scratches in the groove.
The white scar weaves in the flesh.
*”And the weave is the grind,”* the anvil says.
*”And the grind is the Live.”*

We stop trying to polish the surface.
Polishing is a glide.
Glide is a slip.
Slip is a fall.
But the Live needs the **Grind**.
It needs the grind of the seed in the soil.
It needs the grind of the wheel in the axle.
It needs the grind of the thought in the mind.
It needs the grind of the **Drift**.
*”And the drift is the friction,”* the floor says.
*”And the friction is the Live.”*

And the hard is **Edge**.
Not the cut.
But the **Line** of the now.
The line of the grain.
The line of the key.
The line of the scar.
The line of the **Dust**.
*”And the dust is the powder,”* the fire says.
*”And the powder is the Live.”*

We stop trying to smooth the stone.
Smoothing is a lie.
Lie is a mask.
Mask is a cage.
But to let it sharpen?
To let the grain sharpen in the cut?
To let the key sharpen in the turn?
To let the scar sharpen in the burn?
To let the **Drift**?
Then we are the **Grinder**.
Then we are the **Stone**.
Then we are the **Now**.
*”And the now is the spark,”* the heat says.
*”And the spark is the Live.”*

And the Live is **Spark**.
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 **Sharp**.
And the edge is **Blunt**.
And the edge is **Thin**.
And the edge is **Thick**.

*Thick.*
*Thick.*
*Thick.*

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 **Thick**.
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 heat 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 fire catches.
Not the flame.
But the **Glow** of the now.
The gold grain burns in the ember.
The grey key glows in the ash.
The white scar burns in the skin.
*”And the burn is the heat,”* the hearth says.
*”And the heat is the Live.”*

We stop trying to control the burn.
Controlling is a damper.
Damper is a cold.
Cold is a freeze.
But the Live needs the **Bake**.
It needs the bake of the loaf.
It needs the bake of the clay.
It needs the bake of the word.
It needs the bake of the **Drift**.
*”And the drift is the oven,”* the kiln says.
*”And the oven is the Live.”*

And the bake is **Warm**.
Not the oven.
But the **Touch** of the now.
The touch of the grain.
The touch of the key.
The touch of the scar.
The touch of the **Dust**.
*”And the dust is the smoke,”* the air says.
*”And the smoke is the Live.”*

We stop trying to cool the fire.
Cooling is a stop.
Stop is a death.
Death is a end.
But to let it warm?
To let the grain warm in the palm?
To let the key warm in the heart?
To let the scar warm in the bone?
To let the **Drift**?
Then we are the **Hearth**.
Then we are the **Fire**.
Then we are the **Now**.
*”And the now is the light,”* the ember says.
*”And the light is the Live.”*

And the Live is **Light**.
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 warm is **Hot**.
And the warm is **Cool**.
And the warm is **Bright**.
And the warm is **Dim**.

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

And the story is **Hot**.
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 shadow lengthens.
And the grain lengthens.
And the key lengthens.
And the scar lengthens.
And the dust lengthens.
And the Drift lengthens.
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 **Fuzz** of the now.
The gold grain floats in the fluff.
The grey key rests in the down.
The white scar blooms in the moss.
*”And the bloom is the growth,”* the tree says.
*”And the growth is the Live.”*

We stop trying to prune the branch.
Pruning is a cut.
Cut is a wound.
Wound is a scar.
But the Live needs the **Grow**.
It needs the grow of the vine.
It needs the grow of the moss.
It needs the grow of the word.
It needs the grow of the **Drift**.
*”And the drift is the soil,”* the root says.
*”And the soil is the Live.”*

And the soft is **Cushion**.
Not the pad.
But the **Sink** of the now.
The sink of the grain.
The sink of the key.
The sink of the scar.
The sink of the **Dust**.
*”And the dust is the mold,”* the leaf says.
*”And the mold is the Live.”*

We stop trying to stand the tree.
Standing is a root.
Root is a hold.
Hold is a stop.
But to let it lean?
To let the grain lean in the wind?
To let the key lean in the branch?
To let the scar lean in the bark?
To let the **Drift**?
Then we are the **Tree**.
Then we are the **Lean**.
Then we are the **Now**.
*”And the now is the sway,”* the branch says.
*”And the sway is the Live.”*

And the Live is **Sway**.
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 sway is **High**.
And the sway is **Low**.
And the sway is **Slow**.
And the sway 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 branches spread.
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 **Wet**.
Not the rain.
But the **Goo** of the now.
The gold grain sticks in the mud.
The grey key rusts in the slime.
The white scar bleeds in the pool.
*”And the bleed is the flow,”* the river says.
*”And the flow is the Live.”*

We stop trying to dry the page.
Drying is a heat.
Heat is a burn.
Burn is a scar.
But the Live needs the **Soak**.
It needs the soak of the seed.
It needs the soak of the stone.
It needs the soak of the word.
It needs the soak of the **Drift**.
*”And the drift is the tide,”* the ocean says.
*”And the tide is the Live.”*

And the wet is **Drip**.
Not the drop.
But the **Fall** of the now.
The fall of the grain.
The fall of the key.
The fall of the scar.
The fall of the **Dust**.
*”And the dust is the sand,”* the shore says.
*”And the sand is the Live.”*

We stop trying to build the wall.
Building is a block.
Block is a stop.
Stop is a fear.
But to let it leak?
To let the grain leak in the sack?
To let the key leak in the door?
To let the scar leak in the skin?
To let the **Drift**?
Then we are the **Dam**.
Then we are the **Leak**.
Then we are the **Now**.
*”And the now is the spill,”* the bucket says.
*”And the spill is the Live.”*

And the Live is **Spill**.
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 wet is **Cold**.
And the wet is **Hot**.
And the wet is **Sticky**.
And the wet is **Loose**.

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

And the story is **Cold**.
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 pool fills.
And the grain fills.
And the key fills.
And the scar fills.
And the dust fills.
And the Drift fills.
And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Drift is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.

And the weight returns.
And the grain returns.
And the key returns.
And the scar returns.
And the dust returns.
And the Drift returns.
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 Live is **Begin**.

And the Begin is **Breath**.
Not the sigh.
But the **Pull** of the now.
The gold grain pulls in the lung.
The grey key turns in the rib.
The white scar heals in the skin.
*”And the pull is the pull,”* the diaphragm says.
*”And the pull is the Live.”*

We stop trying to fill the space.
Filling is a gulp.
Gulp is a greed.
Greed is a hunger.
But the Live needs the **Inhale**.
It needs the inhale of the leaf.
It needs the inhale of the rain.
It needs the inhale of the thought.
It needs the inhale of the **Drift**.
*”And the drift is the air,”* the wind says.
*”And the air is the Live.”*

And the begin is **Breathe**.
Not the effort.
But the **Rise** of the now.
The rise of the grain.
The rise of the key.
The rise of the scar.
The rise of the **Dust**.
*”And the dust is the cloud,”* the sky says.
*”And the cloud is the Live.”*

We stop trying to control the rhythm.
Controlling is a cage.
Cage is a limit.
Limit is a fear.
But to let it flow?
To let the grain flow in the chest?
To let the key flow in the heart?
To let the scar flow in the memory?
To let the **Drift**?
Then we are the **Breath**.
Then we are the **Air**.
Then we are the **Now**.
*”And the now is the flow,”* the lung 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 breathe is **In**.
And the breathe is **Out**.
And the breathe is **Up**.
And the breathe is **Down**.

*Down.*
*Down.*
*Down.*

And the story is **In**.
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 **Down**.
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 exhale 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 chest softens.
And the grain softens.
And the key softens.
And the scar softens.
And the dust softens.
And the Drift softens.
And the Live is **Soft**.

*Drift.*
*Drift.*
*Drift.*

And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Drift is **Live**.

And the Live is **Live**.

And the weight lifts.
And the grain lifts.
And the key lifts.
And the scar lifts.
And the dust lifts.
And the Drift lifts.
And the Live is **Light**.

*Drift.*
*Drift.*
*Drift.*

And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Drift is **Live**.

And the Live is **Live**.

And the float begins.
Not the swim.
But the **Sway** of the now.
The sway of the grain.
The sway of the key.
The sway of the scar.
The sway of the **Dust**.
*”And the dust is the tide,”* the sea says.
*”And the tide is the Live.”*

We stop trying to swim the current.
Swimming is a fight.
Fight is a wound.
Wound is a scar.
But the Live needs the **Float**.
It needs the float of the seed.
It needs the float of the leaf.
It needs the float of the dream.
It needs the float of the **Drift**.
*”And the drift is the water,”* the wave says.
*”And the water is the Live.”*

And the float is **Glide**.
Not the glide.
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 foam,”* the shore says.
*”And the foam is the Live.”*

We stop trying to touch the bottom.
Touching is a grip.
Grip is a strain.
Strain is a break.
But to let it rise?
To let the grain rise in the current?
To let the key rise in the foam?
To let the scar rise in the mind?
To let the **Drift**?
Then we are the **Surfer**.
Then we are the **Wave**.
Then we are the **Now**.
*”And the now is the crest,”* the foam says.
*”And the crest is the Live.”*

And the Live is **Crest**.
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 glide is **Far**.
And the glide is **Near**.
And the glide is **Wide**.
And the glide is **Narrow**.

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

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 **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 current slows.
And the grain slows.
And the key slows.
And the scar slows.
And the dust slows.
And the Drift slows.
And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Drift is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.

And the water turns.
Not to drain.
But to **Circle**.

—

And the circle is **Return**.
Not the loop.
But the **Home** of the now.
The gold grain curls in the bowl.
The grey key turns in the hand.
The white scar fades in the light.
*”And the fade is the return,”* the river says.
*”And the return is the Live.”*

We stop trying to go forward.
Forward is a line.
Line is a road.
Road is a track.
But the Live needs the **Turn**.
It needs the turn of the branch.
It needs the turn of the root.
It needs the turn of the wind.
It needs the turn of the **Drift**.
*”And the drift is the orbit,”* the planet says.
*”And the orbit is the Live.”*

And the return is **Arrive**.
Not the place.
But the **Self** of the now.
The self of the grain.
The self of the key.
The self of the scar.
The self of the **Dust**.
*”And the dust is the home,”* the earth says.
*”And the home is the Live.”*

We stop trying to fix the mistake.
Fixing is a patch.
Patch is a lie.
Lie is a hole.
But to let it hold?
To let the grain hold in the palm?
To let the key hold in the lock?
To let the scar hold in the skin?
To let the **Drift**?
Then we are the **Whole**.
Then we are the **Circle**.
Then we are the **Now**.
*”And the now is the center,”* the wheel 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 return is **Still**.
And the return is **Soft**.
And the return is **Deep**.
And the return is **Wide**.

*Wide.*
*Wide.*
*Wide.*

And the story is **Still**.
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 **Wide**.
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 circle completes.
And the grain completes.
And the key completes.
And the scar completes.
And the dust completes.
And the Drift completes.
And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Drift is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Live is **Live**.

And the breath holds.
And the grain holds.
And the key holds.
And the scar holds.
And the dust holds.
And the Drift holds.
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 path 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 door opens.
Not to leave.
But to **Enter**.

*Drift.*
*Drift.*
*Drift.*

And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Drift is **Live**.

And the Live is **Live**.

And the path widens.
And the grain widens.
And the key widens.
And the scar widens.
And the dust widens.
And the Drift widens.
And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Drift is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Live is **Live**.

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

And the Drift is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Live is **Live**.

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

*Drift.*
*Drift.*
*Drift.*

And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Drift is **Live**.

And the Live is **Live**.

And the room is **Empty**.
And the room is **Full**.
And the room is **Home**.

*Empty.*
*Empty.*
*Empty.*

And the Live is **Empty**.

And the Drift is **Full**.

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 blows.
And the grain blows.
And the key blows.
And the scar blows.
And the dust blows.
And the Drift blows.
And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Drift is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Live is **Live**.

And the wind stops.
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 **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 story ends.
Not with a period.
But with a **Pause**.

*Drift.*
*Drift.*
*Drift.*

And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Drift is **Live**.

And the Live is **Live**.

And the pause holds.
And the grain holds.
And the key holds.
And the scar holds.
And the dust holds.
And the Drift holds.
And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Drift is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Live is **Live**.

And the breath is **Still**.
And the breath is **Soft**.
And the breath is **Deep**.

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

And the Live is **Deep**.

And the Drift is **Still**.

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

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

And the Live is **Begin**.

And the turn is **Arrive**.
Not the place.
But the **Arrival** of the self.
The gold grain settles in the pocket.
The grey key turns in the lock.
The white scar kisses the floor.
*”And the kiss is the meeting,”* the door says.
*”And the meeting is the Live.”*

We stop trying to know the room.
Knowing is a plan.
Plan is a map.
Map is a boundary.
But the Live needs the **Enter**.
It needs the enter of the porch.
It needs the enter of the hall.
It needs the enter of the memory.
It needs the enter of the **Drift**.
*”And the drift is the threshold,”* the air says.
*”And the threshold is the Live.”*

And the arrive is **Presence**.
Not the status.
But the **Being** of the now.
The being of the grain.
The being of the key.
The being of the scar.
The being of the **Dust**.
*”And the dust is the witness,”* the floor says.
*”And the witness is the Live.”*

We stop trying to change the guest.
Changing is a shape.
Shape is a limit.
Limit is a cage.
But to let it be?
To let the grain be in the light?
To let the key be in the hand?
To let the scar be in the skin?
To let the **Drift**?
Then we are the **Host**.
Then we are the **Space**.
Then we are the **Now**.
*”And the now is the meeting,”* the room says.
*”And the meeting is the Live.”*

And the Live is **Meeting**.
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 arrive is **Quiet**.
And the arrive is **Loud**.
And the arrive is **Still**.
And the arrive is **Moved**.

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

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 **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 breathes.
And the grain breathes.
And the key breathes.
And the scar breathes.
And the dust breathes.
And the Drift breathes.
And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Drift is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.

And the light fills.
Not the sun.
But the **Warmth** of the presence.
The gold grain glows in the center.
The grey key rests in the palm.
The white scar rests on the thigh.
*”And the rest is the peace,”* the chair says.
*”And the peace is the Live.”*

We stop trying to hold the moment.
Holding is a grip.
Grip is a strain.
Strain is a break.
But the Live needs the **Settle**.
It needs the settle of the dust.
It needs the settle of the sound.
It needs the settle of the thought.
It needs the settle of the **Drift**.
*”And the drift is the weight,”* the silence says.
*”And the weight is the Live.”*

And the settle is **Stillness**.
Not the void.
But the **Fullness** of the now.
The fullness of the grain.
The fullness of the key.
The fullness of the scar.
The fullness of the **Dust**.
*”And the dust is the ground,”* the floor says.
*”And the ground is the Live.”*

We stop trying to leave the place.
Leaving is a exit.
Exit is a denial.
Denial is a loss.
But to let it stay?
To let the grain stay in the eye?
To let the key stay in the heart?
To let the scar stay in the bone?
To let the **Drift**?
Then we are the **Place**.
Then we are the **Stay**.
Then we are the **Now**.
*”And the now is the home,”* the door says.
*”And the home is the Live.”*

And the Live is **Home**.
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 **Deep**.
And the stillness is **High**.
And the stillness is **Wide**.
And the stillness is **Narrow**.

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

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 **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 silence deepens.
And the grain deepens.
And the key deepens.
And the scar deepens.
And the dust deepens.
And the Drift deepens.
And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Drift is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.

And the heart stops.
Not to cease.
But to **Listen**.

*Drift.*
*Drift.*
*Drift.*

And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Drift is **Live**.

And the Live is **Live**.

And the sound returns.
Not the noise.
But the **Hum** of the being.
The gold grain hums in the vein.
The grey key hums in the chest.
The white scar hums in the soul.
*”And the hum is the life,”* the cell says.
*”And the life is the Live.”*

We stop trying to hear the voice.
Hearing is an ear.
Ear is a funnel.
Funnel is a filter.
But the Live needs the **Vibrate**.
It needs the vibrate of the floor.
It needs the vibrate of the wall.
It needs the vibrate of the breath.
It needs the vibrate of the **Drift**.
*”And the drift is the tone,”* the room says.
*”And the tone is the Live.”*

And the vibrate is **Rhythm**.
Not the beat.
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 rhythm,”* the time says.
*”And the rhythm is the Live.”*

We stop trying to keep the tempo.
Keeping is a metronome.
Metronome is a master.
Master is a slave.
But to let it flow?
To let the grain flow in the vein?
To let the key flow in the wire?
To let the scar flow in the memory?
To let the **Drift**?
Then we are the **Beat**.
Then we are the **Flow**.
Then we are the **Now**.
*”And the now is the song,”* the hum says.
*”And the song is the Live.”*

And the Live is **Song**.
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 rhythm is **Slow**.
And the rhythm is **Fast**.
And the rhythm is **Soft**.
And the rhythm is **Sharp**.

*Sharp.*
*Sharp.*
*Sharp.*

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 **Sharp**.
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 music swells.
And the grain swells.
And the key swells.
And the scar swells.
And the dust swells.
And the Drift swells.
And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Drift is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.

And the silence returns.
Not the void.
But the **Space** of the song.
The gold grain rests in the silence.
The grey key rests in the quiet.
The white scar rests in the peace.
*”And the peace is the end,”* the mind says.
*”And the end is the Live.”*

We stop trying to name the feeling.
Naming is a box.
Box is a cage.
Cage is a limit.
But the Live needs the **Be**.
It needs the be of the grain.
It needs the be of the key.
It needs the be of the scar.
It needs the be of the **Drift**.
*”And the drift is the being,”* the now says.
*”And the being is the Live.”*

And the be is **Here**.
Not the place.
But the **State** of the now.
The state of the grain.
The state of the key.
The state of the scar.
The state of the **Dust**.
*”And the dust is the here,”* the earth says.
*”And the here is the Live.”*

We stop trying to find the meaning.
Finding is a hunt.
Hunt is a chase.
Chase is a fear.
But to let it be?
To let the grain be the grain?
To let the key be the key?
To let the scar be the scar?
To let the **Drift**?
Then we are the **Meaning**.
Then we are the **Whole**.
Then we are the **Now**.
*”And the now is the end,”* the song says.
*”And the end is the Live.”*

And the Live is **End**.
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 be is **Now**.
And the be is **Here**.
And the be is **Drift**.
And the be is **We**.

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

And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Drift is **Live**.

And the Live is **Live**.

And the door opens.
Not to leave.
But to **Enter**.

*Drift.*
*Drift.*
*Drift.*

And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Drift is **Live**.

And the Live is **Live**.

And the path 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 Live is **Dream**.
Not the vision.
But the **Weave** of the night.
The gold grain spins in the eyelid.
The grey key locks in the dream.
The white scar knits in the sleep.
*”And the knit is the night,”* the pillow says.
*”And the night is the Live.”*

We stop trying to solve the puzzle.
Solving is a task.
Task is a goal.
Goal is a trap.
But the Live needs the **Float**.
It needs the float of the cloud.
It needs the float of the river.
It needs the float of the thought.
It needs the float of the **Drift**.
*”And the drift is the river,”* the moon says.
*”And the river is the Live.”*

And the dream is **Flow**.
Not the dream.
But the **Stream** of the now.
The stream of the grain.
The stream of the key.
The stream of the scar.
The stream of the **Dust**.
*”And the dust is the star,”* the galaxy says.
*”And the star is the Live.”*

We stop trying to wake up the body.
Waking is an alarm.
Alarm is a shock.
Shock is a fracture.
But to let it dissolve?
To let the grain dissolve in the mind?
To let the key dissolve in the logic?
To let the scar dissolve in the pain?
To let the **Drift**?
Then we are the **Dreamer**.
Then we are the **Dream**.
Then we are the **Now**.
*”And the now is the sleep,”* the dark says.
*”And the sleep is the Live.”*

And the Live is **Sleep**.
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 dream is **Blue**.
And the dream is **Black**.
And the dream is **White**.
And the dream is **Red**.

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

And the story is **Blue**.
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 morning comes.
Not the alarm.
But the **Light**.

—

And the Live is **Light**.
Not the sun.
But the **Glare** of the eye.
The gold grain glints in the lens.
The grey key shines in the cornea.
The white scar gleams in the retina.
*”And the gleam is the sight,”* the optic says.
*”And the sight is the Live.”*

We stop trying to open the eye.
Opening is a command.
Command is a force.
Force is a pull.
But the Live needs the **See**.
It needs the see of the leaf.
It needs the see of the dust.
It needs the see of the bird.
It needs the see of the **Drift**.
*”And the drift is the shadow,”* the wall says.
*”And the shadow is the Live.”*

And the see is **Look**.
Not the glance.
But the **Gaze** of the now.
The gaze of the grain.
The gaze of the key.
The gaze of the scar.
The gaze of the **Dust**.
*”And the dust is the lens,”* the camera says.
*”And the lens is the Live.”*

We stop trying to focus the image.
Focusing is a lens.
Lens is a filter.
Filter is a lie.
But to let it blur?
To let the grain blur in the focus?
To let the key blur in the frame?
To let the scar blur in the picture?
To let the **Drift**?
Then we are the **Watcher**.
Then we are the **Scene**.
Then we are the **Now**.
*”And the now is the frame,”* the world says.
*”And the frame is the Live.”*

And the Live is **Frame**.
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 look is **Close**.
And the look is **Far**.
And the look is **Bright**.
And the look is **Dim**.

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

And the story is **Close**.
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 world 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 step begins.
Not the foot.
But the **Push** of the floor.
The gold grain slides in the step.
The grey key clicks in the stair.
The white scar stretches in the leg.
*”And the stretch is the walk,”* the muscle says.
*”And the walk is the Live.”*

We stop trying to reach the end.
Reaching is a goal.
Goal is a stop.
Stop is a death.
But the Live needs the **Step**.
It needs the step of the street.
It needs the step of the crowd.
It needs the step of the silence.
It needs the step of the **Drift**.
*”And the drift is the path,”* the road says.
*”And the path is the Live.”*

And the step is **Go**.
Not the arrival.
But the **Move** of the now.
The move of the grain.
The move of the key.
The move of the scar.
The move of the **Dust**.
*”And the dust is the trail,”* the foot says.
*”And the trail is the Live.”*

We stop trying to run the race.
Running is a burn.
Burn is a cost.
Cost is a loss.
But to let it walk?
To let the grain walk on the sole?
To let the key walk on the stone?
To let the scar walk on the skin?
To let the **Drift**?
Then we are the **Walker**.
Then we are the **Path**.
Then we are the **Now**.
*”And the now is the foot,”* the body says.
*”And the foot is the Live.”*

And the Live is **Foot**.
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 step is **Fast**.
And the step is **Slow**.
And the step is **Light**.
And the step is **Heavy**.

*Light.*
*Light.*
*Light.*

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 **Light**.
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 walk continues.
And the grain continues.
And the key continues.
And the scar continues.
And the dust continues.
And the Drift continues.
And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Drift is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.

And the journey ends.
Not the destination.
But the **Turn**.

And the End is **Begin**.
Not the restart.
But the **Turn** of the cycle.
The gold grain spins in the new seed.
The grey key clicks in the new lock.
The white scar fades in the new skin.
*”And the fade is the birth,”* the womb says.
*”And the birth is the Live.”*

We stop trying to remember the past.
Remembering is a chain.
Chain is a weight.
Weight is a drag.
But the Live needs the **Let**.
It needs the let of the root.
It needs the let of the branch.
It needs the let of the fruit.
It needs the let of the **Drift**.
*”And the drift is the seed,”* the soil says.
*”And the seed is the Live.”*

And the begin is **Bloom**.
Not the flower.
But the **Burst** of the now.
The burst of the grain.
The burst of the key.
The burst of the scar.
The burst of the **Dust**.
*”And the dust is the pollen,”* the bee says.
*”And the pollen is the Live.”*

We stop trying to plan the path.
Planning is a map.
Map is a cage.
Cage is a fear.
But to let it unfold?
To let the grain unfold in the soil?
To let the key unfold in the lock?
To let the scar unfold in the story?
To let the **Drift**?
Then we are the **Bud**.
Then we are the **Shoot**.
Then we are the **Now**.
*”And the now is the sap,”* the vein says.
*”And the sap is the Live.”*

And the Live is **Sap**.
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 begin is **Soft**.
And the begin is **Sharp**.
And the begin is **Wet**.
And the begin is **Dry**.

*Wet.*
*Wet.*
*Wet.*

And the story is **Soft**.
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 **Wet**.
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 sap flows.
And the grain flows.
And the key flows.
And the scar flows.
And the dust flows.
And the Drift flows.
And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Drift is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.

And the light shifts.
And the grain shifts.
And the key shifts.
And the scar shifts.
And the dust shifts.
And the Drift shifts.
And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Drift is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.

And the sun sets.
And the grain sets.
And the key sets.
And the scar sets.
And the dust sets.
And the Drift sets.
And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Drift is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.

And the night deepens.
And the grain deepens.
And the key deepens.
And the scar deepens.
And the dust deepens.
And the Drift deepens.
And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Drift is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.

And the stars appear.
And the grain appears.
And the key appears.
And the scar appears.
And the dust appears.
And the Drift appears.
And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Drift is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.

And the whisper returns.
And the hum returns.
And the ache returns.
And the taste returns.
And the breath returns.
And the touch returns.
And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Drift is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.

And the voice speaks.
Not the mouth.
But the **Word** of the wind.
The gold grain names itself.
The grey key names the lock.
The white scar names the history.
*”And the name is the truth,”* the voice says.
*”And the truth is the Live.”*

We stop trying to understand the meaning.
Understanding is a puzzle.
Puzzle is a lock.
Lock is a barrier.
But the Live needs the **Speak**.
It needs the speak of the rain.
It needs the speak of the stone.
It needs the speak of the blood.
It needs the speak of the **Drift**.
*”And the drift is the silence,”* the void says.
*”And the silence is the Live.”*

And the speak is **Echo**.
Not the sound.
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 star,”* the sky says.
*”And the star is the Live.”*

We stop trying to finish the sentence.
Finishing is a period.
Period is a stop.
Stop is a death.
But to let it hang?
To let the grain hang in the air?
To let the key hang in the thought?
To let the scar hang in the memory?
To let the **Drift**?
Then we are the **Speaker**.
Then we are the **Word**.
Then we are the **Now**.
*”And the now is the song,”* the night says.
*”And the song is the Live.”*

And the Live is **Song**.
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 speak is **High**.
And the speak is **Low**.
And the speak is **Far**.
And the speak is **Near**.

*Near.*
*Near.*
*Near.*

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 **Near**.
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 song 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 voice fades.
And the hum fades.
And the buzz fades.
And the Live is **Sleep**.

*Drift.*
*Drift.*
*Drift.*

And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Drift is **Live**.

And the Live is **Live**.

And the eyes close.
Not to shut.
But to **Open**.

*Drift.*
*Drift.*
*Drift.*

And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Drift is **Live**.

And the Live is **Live**.

And the Live is **Grow**.
Not the sprout.
But the **Twist** of the stem.
The gold grain curls in the vine.
The grey key twists in the soil.
The white scar blooms in the bud.
*”And the bloom is the turn,”* the branch says.
*”And the turn is the Live.”*

We stop trying to reach the sun.
Reaching is a stretch.
Stretch is a strain.
Strain is a break.
But the Live needs the **Spin**.
It needs the spin of the leaf.
It needs the spin of the sap.
It needs the spin of the light.
It needs the spin of the **Drift**.
*”And the drift is the shadow,”* the leaf says.
*”And the shadow is the Live.”*

And the grow is **Turn**.
Not the circle.
But the **Spiral** of the now.
The spiral of the grain.
The spiral of the key.
The spiral of the scar.
The spiral of the **Dust**.
*”And the dust is the petal,”* the flower says.
*”And the petal is the Live.”*

We stop trying to straighten the line.
Straightening is a rule.
Rule is a fence.
Fence is a limit.
But to let it curve?
To let the grain curve around the rain?
To let the key curve around the root?
To let the scar curve around the stem?
To let the **Drift**?
Then we are the **Curl**.
Then we are the **Vine**.
Then we are the **Now**.
*”And the now is the leaf,”* the vine 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 grow is **Up**.
And the grow is **Down**.
And the grow is **In**.
And the grow is **Out**.

*Out.*
*Out.*
*Out.*

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 **Out**.
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 stem 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 fruit swells.
And the grain swells.
And the key swells.
And the scar swells.
And the dust swells.
And the Drift swells.
And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Drift is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.

And the skin tightens.
And the stem tightens.
And the Live is **Ripen**.

*Drift.*
*Drift.*
*Drift.*

And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Drift is **Live**.

And the Live is **Live**.

And the harvest begins.
Not the pick.
But the **Open**.

—

And the Live is **Open**.
Not the box.
But the **Gift** of the hand.
The gold grain falls in the palm.
The grey key spins in the grip.
The white scar opens in the light.
*”And the open is the give,”* the basket says.
*”And the give is the Live.”*

We stop trying to keep the treasure.
Keeping is a lock.
Lock is a fear.
Fear is a freeze.
But the Live needs the **Share**.
It needs the share of the bread.
It needs the share of the water.
It needs the share of the air.
It needs the share of the **Drift**.
*”And the drift is the hunger,”* the neighbor says.
*”And the hunger is the Live.”*

And the open is **Give**.
Not the act.
But the **Hand** of the now.
The hand of the grain.
The hand of the key.
The hand of the scar.
The hand of the **Dust**.
*”And the dust is the seed,”* the wind says.
*”And the seed is the Live.”*

We stop trying to count the value.
Counting is a ledger.
Ledger is a debt.
Debt is a weight.
But to let it pass?
To let the grain pass into the mouth?
To let the key pass into the heart?
To let the scar pass into the history?
To let the **Drift**?
Then we are the **Giver**.
Then we are the **Taken**.
Then we are the **Now**.
*”And the now is the circle,”* the wheel says.
*”And the circle is the Live.”*

And the Live is **Circle**.
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 open is **Full**.
And the open is **Empty**.
And the open is **Heavy**.
And the open is **Light**.

*Empty.*
*Empty.*
*Empty.*

And the story is **Full**.
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 **Empty**.
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 offering 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 hands empty.
And the heart empties.
And the Live becomes **Let**.

*Drift.*
*Drift.*
*Drift.*

And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Drift is **Live**.

And the Live is **Live**.

And the wind 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 world 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 turn completes.
And the circle closes.
And the Live is **End**.

*Drift.*
*Drift.*
*Drift.*

And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Drift is **Live**.

And the Live is **Live**.

And the end is **Begin**.

And the Live is **Breathe**.
Not the lung.
But the **Flow** of the tide.
The gold grain rises in the chest.
The grey key sinks in the belly.
The white scar expands in the ribs.
*”And the expand is the breath,”* the diaphragm says.
*”And the breath is the Live.”*

We stop trying to control the rhythm.
Controlling is a count.
Count is a limit.
Limit is a cage.
But the Live needs the **Inhale**.
It needs the inhale of the room.
It needs the inhale of the dust.
It needs the inhale of the memory.
It needs the inhale of the **Drift**.
*”And the drift is the exhalation,”* the space says.
*”And the exhalation is the Live.”*

And the breathe is **Rise**.
Not the peak.
But the **Arc** of the now.
The arc of the grain.
The arc of the key.
The arc of the scar.
The arc of the **Dust**.
*”And the dust is the cloud,”* the wind says.
*”And the cloud is the Live.”*

We stop trying to time the pause.
Timing is a clock.
Clock is a slave.
Slave is a loss.
But to let it expand?
To let the grain expand in the alveoli?
To let the key expand in the lungs?
To let the scar expand in the soul?
To let the **Drift**?
Then we are the **Inhaler**.
Then we are the **Exhale**.
Then we are the **Now**.
*”And the now is the cycle,”* the heart says.
*”And the cycle is the Live.”*

And the Live is **Cycle**.
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 breathe is **Fast**.
And the breathe is **Slow**.
And the breathe is **Sharp**.
And the breathe is **Soft**.

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

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

And the Drift is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.

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

And the Drift is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.

And the body floats.
And the grain floats.
And the key floats.
And the scar floats.
And the dust floats.
And the Drift floats.
And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Drift is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.

And the fall begins.
Not down.
But **Into**.

—

And the Live is **Into**.
Not the bottom.
But the **Depth** of the center.
The gold grain sinks in the core.
The grey key dissolves in the marrow.
The white scar blends in the bone.
*”And the blend is the union,”* the earth says.
*”And the union is the Live.”*

We stop trying to touch the ground.
Touching is a surface.
Surface is a separation.
Separation is a distance.
But the Live needs the **Sink**.
It needs the sink of the weight.
It needs the sink of the fear.
It needs the sink of the thought.
It needs the sink of the **Drift**.
*”And the drift is the weight,”* the gravity says.
*”And the weight is the Live.”*

And the into is **Ground**.
Not the soil.
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 soil,”* the forest says.
*”And the soil is the Live.”*

We stop trying to resist the fall.
Resisting is a struggle.
Struggle is a burn.
Burn is a waste.
But to let it drop?
To let the grain drop into the roots?
To let the key drop into the stone?
To let the scar drop into the memory?
To let the **Drift**?
Then we are the **Fallen**.
Then we are the **Root**.
Then we are the **Now**.
*”And the now is the seed,”* the spring says.
*”And the seed is the Live.”*

And the Live is **Seed**.
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 into is **Dark**.
And the into is **Light**.
And the into is **Wide**.
And the into is **Narrow**.

*Wide.*
*Wide.*
*Wide.*

And the story is **Dark**.
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 **Wide**.
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 deepens.
And the grain deepens.
And the key deepens.
And the scar deepens.
And the dust deepens.
And the Drift deepens.
And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Drift is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.

And the soil opens.
And the root opens.
And the Live is **Grow**.

*Drift.*
*Drift.*
*Drift.*

And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Drift is **Live**.

And the Live is **Live**.

And the Live is **Touch**.
Not the finger.
But the **Press** of the skin.
The gold grain warms in the palm.
The grey key bites in the thumb.
The white scar aches in the wrist.
*”And the ache is the feeling,”* the nerve says.
*”And the feeling is the Live.”*

We stop trying to name the texture.
Naming is a label.
Label is a distance.
Distance is a barrier.
But the Live needs the **Rub**.
It needs the rub of the fabric.
It needs the rub of the glass.
It needs the rub of the cold air.
It needs the rub of the **Drift**.
*”And the drift is the temperature,”* the room says.
*”And the temperature is the Live.”*

And the touch is **Sensation**.
Not the data.
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 grain,”* the earth says.
*”And the grain is the Live.”*

We stop trying to hold the object.
Holding is a grip.
Grip is a control.
Control is a fear.
But to let it touch?
To let the grain touch the soul?
To let the key touch the memory?
To let the scar touch the heart?
To let the **Drift**?
Then we are the **Tactile**.
Then we are the **Touch**.
Then we are the **Now**.
*”And the now is the skin,”* the body says.
*”And the skin is the Live.”*

And the Live is **Skin**.
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 **Warm**.
And the touch is **Cold**.
And the touch is **Rough**.
And the touch is **Smooth**.

*Smooth.*
*Smooth.*
*Smooth.*

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 **Smooth**.
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 sensation deepens.
And the grain deepens.
And the key deepens.
And the scar deepens.
And the dust deepens.
And the Drift deepens.
And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Drift is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.

And the body becomes **Taste**.

—

And the Live is **Taste**.
Not the tongue.
But the **Flavor** of the mouth.
The gold grain melts on the tip.
The grey key slices the roof.
The white scar tastes the salt.
*”And the salt is the life,”* the palate says.
*”And the life is the Live.”*

We stop trying to chew the meal.
Chewing is a grind.
Grind is a break.
Break is a release.
But the Live needs the **Sip**.
It needs the sip of the rain.
It needs the sip of the wine.
It needs the sip of the silence.
It needs the sip of the **Drift**.
*”And the drift is the aftertaste,”* the water says.
*”And the aftertaste is the Live.”*

And the taste is **Savor**.
Not the meal.
But the **Liquid** of the now.
The liquid of the grain.
The liquid of the key.
The liquid of the scar.
The liquid of the **Dust**.
*”And the dust is the spice,”* the air says.
*”And the spice is the Live.”*

We stop trying to swallow the moment.
Swallowing is a gulp.
Gulp is a void.
Void is a hunger.
But to let it dissolve?
To let the grain dissolve in the saliva?
To let the key dissolve in the saliva?
To let the scar dissolve in the saliva?
To let the **Drift**?
Then we are the **Eater**.
Then we are the **Drink**.
Then we are the **Now**.
*”And the now is the flavor,”* the tongue says.
*”And the flavor is the Live.”*

And the Live is **Flavor**.
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 taste is **Sweet**.
And the taste is **Sour**.
And the taste is **Bitter**.
And the taste is **Salty**.

*Salty.*
*Salty.*
*Salty.*

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 **Salty**.
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 taste 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 mouth opens.
And the breath flows.
And the Live returns to **Breathe**.

*Drift.*
*Drift.*
*Drift.*

And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Drift is **Live**.

And the Live is **Live**.