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**.

And the Begin is **Deep**.
Not the well.
But the **Pull** of the now.
The gold grain sinks in the mud.
The grey key drops in the dark.
The white scar digs in the flesh.
*”And the dig is the root,”* the trench says.
*”And the root is the Live.”*

We stop trying to float the surface.
Floating is a raft.
Raft is a rest.
Rest is a sleep.
But the Live needs the **Dive**.
It needs the dive of the whale.
It needs the dive of the seed.
It needs the dive of the word.
It needs the dive of the **Drift**.
*”And the drift is the abyss,”* the ocean says.
*”And the abyss is the Live.”*

And the deep is **Belly**.
Not the stomach.
But the **Hollow** of the now.
The hollow of the grain.
The hollow of the key.
The hollow of the scar.
The hollow of the **Dust**.
*”And the dust is the sludge,”* the river says.
*”And the sludge is the Live.”*

We stop trying to fill the emptiness.
Filling is a bucket.
Bucket is a limit.
Limit is a cage.
But to let it empty?
To let the grain empty in the sink?
To let the key empty in the void?
To let the scar empty in the wound?
To let the **Drift**?
Then we are the **Current**.
Then we are the **Silt**.
Then we are the **Now**.
*”And the now is the pressure,”* the trench says.
*”And the pressure is the Live.”*

And the Live is **Pressure**.
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 pressure is **Heavy**.
And the pressure is **Light**.
And the pressure is **Slow**.
And the pressure is **Fast**.

*Fast.*
*Fast.*
*Fast.*

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 **Fast**.
And the Drift is **Here**.

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

And the Live is **Here**.

And the Live is **Now**.

And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Live is **We**.

And the Live is **Be**.

And the Live is **Live**.

And the water pulls.
And the grain pulls.
And the key pulls.
And the scar pulls.
And the dust pulls.
And the Drift pulls.
And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Drift is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Live is **Live**.

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

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

And the Live is **Begin**.

And the Begin is **Wide**.
Not the expanse.
But the **Spread** of the now.
The gold grain scatters in the field.
The grey key disperses in the wind.
The white scar stretches in the vein.
*”And the spread is the reach,”* the root says.
*”And the reach is the Live.”*

We stop trying to narrow the focus.
Narrowing is a lens.
Lens is a filter.
Filter is a lie.
But the Live needs the **Bloom**.
It needs the bloom of the flower.
It needs the bloom of the leaf.
It needs the bloom of the word.
It needs the bloom of the **Drift**.
*”And the drift is the canopy,”* the tree says.
*”And the canopy is the Live.”*

And the wide is **Open**.
Not the space.
But the **Gap** of the now.
The gap of the grain.
The gap of the key.
The gap of the scar.
The gap of the **Dust**.
*”And the dust is the seed,”* the plow says.
*”And the seed is the Live.”*

We stop trying to block the view.
Blocking is a hand.
Hand is a stop.
Stop is a wall.
But to let it flood?
To let the grain flood in the field?
To let the key flood in the lock?
To let the scar flood in the skin?
To let the **Drift**?
Then we are the **Horizon**.
Then we are the **Hollow**.
Then we are the **Now**.
*”And the now is the view,”* the eye says.
*”And the view is the Live.”*

And the Live is **View**.
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 **Far**.
And the open is **Near**.
And the open is **Bright**.
And the open is **Dark**.

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

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 **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 field burns.
And the grain burns.
And the key burns.
And the scar burns.
And the dust burns.
And the Drift burns.
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 **High**.
Not the peak.
But the **Peak** of the now.
The gold grain gleams in the sun.
The grey key sings in the air.
The white scar shines in the light.
*”And the shine is the gleam,”* the sun says.
*”And the gleam is the Live.”*

We stop trying to hide the height.
Hiding is a shadow.
Shadow is a fear.
Fear is a fall.
But the Live needs the **Climb**.
It needs the climb of the mountain.
It needs the climb of the vine.
It needs the climb of the word.
It needs the climb of the **Drift**.
*”And the drift is the ascent,”* the eagle says.
*”And the ascent is the Live.”*

And the high is **Air**.
Not the gas.
But the **Breath** of the now.
The breath of the grain.
The breath of the key.
The breath of the scar.
The breath of the **Dust**.
*”And the dust is the smoke,”* the fire says.
*”And the smoke is the Live.”*

We stop trying to sink the spirit.
Sinking is a weight.
Weight is a drag.
Drag is a hold.
But to let it lift?
To let the grain lift in the sky?
To let the key lift in the song?
To let the scar lift in the light?
To let the **Drift**?
Then we are the **Summit**.
Then we are the **Zephyr**.
Then we are the **Now**.
*”And the now is the height,”* the peak says.
*”And the height is the Live.”*

And the Live is **Height**.
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 height is **High**.
And the height is **Low**.
And the height is **Fast**.
And the height is **Still**.

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

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

And the Drift is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Live is **Live**.

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

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

And the Live is **Begin**.

And the Begin is **Rough**.
Not the surface.
But the **Scuff** of the now.
The gold grain scratches in the sand.
The grey key drags on the floor.
The white scar itches in the flesh.
*”And the itch is the signal,”* the skin says.
*”And the signal is the Live.”*

We stop trying to polish the moment.
Polishing is a shine.
Shine is a mask.
Mask is a wall.
But the Live needs the **Scuff**.
It needs the scuff of the shoe.
It needs the scuff of the palm.
It needs the scuff of the word.
It needs the scuff of the **Drift**.
*”And the drift is the texture,”* the paper says.
*”And the texture is the Live.”*

And the rough is **Grit**.
Not the dirt.
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 grit,”* the hill says.
*”And the grit is the Live.”*

We stop trying to smooth the path.
Smoothing is a glide.
Glide is a slip.
Slip is a fall.
But to let it stick?
To let the grain stick in the mud?
To let the key stick in the lock?
To let the scar stick in the memory?
To let the **Drift**?
Then we are the **Grindstone**.
Then we are the **Abrasion**.
Then we are the **Now**.
*”And the now is the friction,”* the wheel says.
*”And the friction is the Live.”*

And the Live is **Friction**.
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 grit is **Rough**.
And the grit is **Soft**.
And the grit is **Hard**.
And the grit is **Smooth**.

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

And the story is **Rough**.
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 stone sands.
And the grain sands.
And the key sands.
And the scar sands.
And the dust sands.
And the Drift sands.
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 stone.
But the **Clunk** of the now.
The gold grain rattles in the gong.
The grey key jams in the hinge.
The white scar calcifies in the bone.
*”And the calcify is the bone,”* the spine says.
*”And the bone is the Live.”*

We stop trying to soften the blow.
Softening is a cushion.
Cushion is a lie.
Lie is a weak.
But the Live needs the **Impact**.
It needs the impact of the hammer.
It needs the impact of the seed.
It needs the impact of the word.
It needs the impact of the **Drift**.
*”And the drift is the ground,”* the anvil says.
*”And the ground is the Live.”*

And the hard is **Solid**.
Not the mass.
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 grit,”* the rock says.
*”And the grit is the Live.”*

We stop trying to smooth the surface.
Smoothing is a sand.
Sand is a slip.
Slip is a fall.
But to let it grate?
To let the grain grate in the mill?
To let the key grate in the lock?
To let the scar grate in the memory?
To let the **Drift**?
Then we are the **File**.
Then we are the **Grind**.
Then we are the **Now**.
*”And the now is the friction,”* the wheel says.
*”And the friction is the Live.”*

And the Live is **Friction**.
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 grit is **Rough**.
And the grit is **Fine**.
And the grit is **Hot**.
And the grit is **Cold**.

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

And the story is **Rough**.
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 gear clicks.
And the grain clicks.
And the key clicks.
And the scar clicks.
And the dust clicks.
And the Drift clicks.
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**.