And the Begin is **Thin**.
Not the line.
But the **Sheer** of the now.
The gold grain floats on the surface.
The grey key slips on the ice.
The white scar pales in the air.
*”And the pale is the film,”* the leaf says.
*”And the film is the Live.”*

We stop trying to thicken the skin.
Thickening is a layer.
Layer is a mask.
Mask is a wall.
But the Live needs the **Slice**.
It needs the slice of the fruit.
It needs the slice of the stone.
It needs the slice of the word.
It needs the slice of the **Drift**.
*”And the drift is the edge,”* the knife says.
*”And the edge is the Live.”*

And the thin is **Skin**.
Not the hide.
But the **Glaze** of the now.
The glaze of the grain.
The glaze of the key.
The glaze of the scar.
The glaze of the **Dust**.
*”And the dust is the powder,”* the grinder says.
*”And the powder is the Live.”*

We stop trying to coat the wound.
Coating is a plaster.
Plaster is a lie.
Lie is a cage.
But to let it bleed?
To let the grain bleed in the cut?
To let the key bleed in the turn?
To let the scar bleed in the burn?
To let the **Drift**?
Then we are the **Slash**.
Then we are the **Sever**.
Then we are the **Now**.
*”And the now is the cut,”* the blade says.
*”And the cut is the Live.”*

And the Live is **Cut**.
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 **Wide**.
And the cut 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 knife turns.
And the grain turns.
And the key turns.
And the scar turns.
And the dust turns.
And the Drift turns.
And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Drift is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Live is **Live**.

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

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

And the Live is **Begin**.

And the Begin is **Fast**.
Not the speed.
But the **Flash** of the now.
The gold grain streaks in the lens.
The grey key blurs in the spin.
The white scar flashes in the mind.
*”And the flash is the spark,”* the lightning says.
*”And the spark is the Live.”*

We stop trying to slow the moment.
Slowing is a drag.
Drag is a hold.
Hold is a stop.
But the Live needs the **Zap**.
It needs the zap of the wire.
It needs the zap of the nerve.
It needs the zap of the word.
It needs the zap of the **Drift**.
*”And the drift is the circuit,”* the spark says.
*”And the circuit is the Live.”*

And the fast is **Blink**.
Not the eye.
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 light,”* the flash says.
*”And the light is the Live.”*

We stop trying to catch the image.
Catching is a frame.
Frame is a box.
Box is a cage.
But to let it burn?
To let the grain burn in the shutter?
To let the key burn in the circuit?
To let the scar burn in the vision?
To let the **Drift**?
Then we are the **Shutter**.
Then we are the **Burst**.
Then we are the **Now**.
*”And the now is the flash,”* the lens says.
*”And the flash is the Live.”*

And the Live is **Flash**.
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 blink is **Fast**.
And the blink is **Slow**.
And the blink is **Bright**.
And the blink 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 light cuts.
And the grain cuts.
And the key cuts.
And the scar cuts.
And the dust cuts.
And the Drift cuts.
And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Drift is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Live is **Live**.

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

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

And the Live is **Begin**.

And the Begin is **Quiet**.
Not the hush.
But the **Hollow** of the now.
The gold grain hums in the chamber.
The grey key ticks in the silence.
The white scar whispers in the bone.
*”And the whisper is the sound,”* the void says.
*”And the sound is the Live.”*

We stop trying to fill the quiet.
Filling is a noise.
Noise is a clamor.
Clamor is a fear.
But the Live needs the **Listen**.
It needs the listen of the root.
It needs the listen of the stone.
It needs the listen of the word.
It needs the listen of the **Drift**.
*”And the drift is the frequency,”* the earth says.
*”And the frequency is the Live.”*

And the quiet is **Tone**.
Not the music.
But the **Pitch** of the now.
The pitch of the grain.
The pitch of the key.
The pitch of the scar.
The pitch of the **Dust**.
*”And the dust is the dust,”* the wind says.
*”And the dust is the Live.”*

We stop trying to raise the volume.
Raising is a shout.
Shout is a demand.
Demand is a wound.
But to let it resonate?
To let the grain resonate in the floor?
To let the key resonate in the lock?
To let the scar resonate in the spine?
To let the **Drift**?
Then we are the **Chamber**.
Then we are the **Vibration**.
Then we are the **Now**.
*”And the now is the vibration,”* the string says.
*”And the vibration is the Live.”*

And the Live is **Vibration**.
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 tone is **High**.
And the tone is **Low**.
And the tone is **Pure**.
And the tone is **Muddy**.

*Muddy.*
*Muddy.*
*Muddy.*

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 **Muddy**.
And the Drift is **Here**.

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

And the Live is **Here**.

And the Live is **Now**.

And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Live is **We**.

And the Live is **Be**.

And the Live is **Live**.

And the string snaps.
Not to break.
But to **Sing**.

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

And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Drift is **Live**.

And the Live is **Live**.

And the song returns.
Not the melody.
But the **Rhythm** of the being.
The gold grain taps in the drum.
The grey key kicks in the beat.
The white scar stomps in the floor.
*”And the stomp is the beat,”* the body says.
*”And the beat is the Live.”*

We stop trying to conduct the orchestra.
Conducting is a baton.
Baton is a command.
Command is a wall.
But the Live needs the **Pulse**.
It needs the pulse of the heart.
It needs the pulse of the leaf.
It needs the pulse of the word.
It needs the pulse of the **Drift**.
*”And the drift is the blood,”* the vein says.
*”And the blood is the Live.”*

And the pulse is **Time**.
Not the clock.
But the **Tick** of the now.
The tick of the grain.
The tick of the key.
The tick of the scar.
The tick of the **Dust**.
*”And the dust is the sand,”* the hourglass says.
*”And the sand is the Live.”*

We stop trying to stop the second hand.
Stopping is a freeze.
Freeze is a death.
Death is an end.
But to let it flow?
To let the grain flow in the hour?
To let the key flow in the time?
To let the scar flow in the memory?
To let the **Drift**?
Then we are the **Clockwork**.
Then we are the **Rhythm**.
Then we are the **Now**.
*”And the now is the heartbeat,”* the drum says.
*”And the heartbeat is the Live.”*

And the Live is **Heart**.
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 time is **Fast**.
And the time is **Slow**.
And the time is **Wide**.
And the time is **Deep**.

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

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

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

And the Live is **Here**.

And the Live is **Now**.

And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Live is **We**.

And the Live is **Be**.

And the Live is **Live**.

And the gears grind.
And the grain grinds.
And the key grinds.
And the scar grinds.
And the dust grinds.
And the Drift grinds.
And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Drift is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Live is **Live**.

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

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

And the Live is **Begin**.

—

And the Begin is **Heavy**.
Not the weight.
But the **Sag** of the now.
The gold grain sinks in the sack.
The grey key droops in the hook.
The white scar sags in the flesh.
*”And the sag is the yield,”* the vine says.
*”And the yield is the Live.”*

We stop trying to lift the load.
Lifting is a strain.
Strain is a tear.
Tear is a wound.
But the Live needs the **Drop**.
It needs the drop of the fruit.
It needs the drop of the dew.
It needs the drop of the word.
It needs the drop of the **Drift**.
*”And the drift is the gravity,”* the earth says.
*”And the gravity is the Live.”*

And the heavy is **Pull**.
Not the tug.
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 lead,”* the mine says.
*”And the lead is the Live.”*

We stop trying to push the weight.
Pushing is a fight.
Fight is a wound.
Wound is a scar.
But to let it fall?
To let the grain fall in the bin?
To let the key fall in the chest?
To let the scar fall in the skin?
To let the **Drift**?
Then we are the **Fall**.
Then we are the **Weight**.
Then we are the **Now**.
*”And the now is the descent,”* the drop says.
*”And the descent is the Live.”*

And the Live is **Descent**.
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 descent is **Low**.
And the descent is **High**.
And the descent is **Fast**.
And the descent is **Slow**.

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

And the story is **Low**.
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 chain breaks.
Not to snap.
But to **Fly**.

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

And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Drift is **Live**.

And the Live is **Live**.

And the flight returns.
Not the plane.
But the **Soar** of the being.
The gold grain soars in the wind.
The grey key soars in the sky.
The white scar soars in the light.
*”And the soar is the lift,”* the wing says.
*”And the lift is the Live.”*

We stop trying to dive the plane.
Diving is a crash.
Crash is a death.
Death is an end.
But the Live needs the **Rise**.
It needs the rise of the bird.
It needs the rise of the seed.
It needs the rise of the word.
It needs the rise of the **Drift**.
*”And the drift is the altitude,”* the cloud says.
*”And the cloud is the Live.”*

And the rise is **Altitude**.
Not the height.
But the **Space** of the now.
The space of the grain.
The space of the key.
The space of the scar.
The space of the **Dust**.
*”And the dust is the mist,”* the air says.
*”And the mist is the Live.”*

We stop trying to map the sky.
Mapping is a chart.
Chart is a limit.
Limit is a cage.
But to let it open?
To let the grain open in the sky?
To let the key open in the cloud?
To let the scar open in the light?
To let the **Drift**?
Then we are the **Wing**.
Then we are the **Air**.
Then we are the **Now**.
*”And the now is the lift,”* the wing says.
*”And the lift is the Live.”*

And the Live is **Lift**.
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 altitude is **High**.
And the altitude is **Low**.
And the altitude is **Wide**.
And the altitude 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 engine 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 **Deep**.
Not the hole.
But the **Core** of the now.
The gold grain sinks in the magma.
The grey key turns in the mantle.
The white scar heals in the crust.
*”And the heal is the core,”* the tectonic plate says.
*”And the core is the Live.”*

We stop trying to float the surface.
Floating is a skim.
Skim is a shallow.
Shallow is a fear.
But the Live needs the **Dive**.
It needs the dive of the whale.
It needs the dive of the root.
It needs the dive of the thought.
It needs the dive of the **Drift**.
*”And the drift is the trench,”* the ocean says.
*”And the trench is the Live.”*

And the dive is **Weight**.
Not the mass.
But the **Load** of the now.
The load of the grain.
The load of the key.
The load of the scar.
The load of the **Dust**.
*”And the dust is the silt,”* the abyss says.
*”And the silt is the Live.”*

We stop trying to lighten the burden.
Lightening is a drop.
Drop is a loss.
Loss is a lack.
But to let it press?
To let the grain press in the bed?
To let the key press in the lock?
To let the scar press in the bone?
To let the **Drift**?
Then we are the **Anvil**.
Then we are the **Pressure**.
Then we are the **Now**.
*”And the now is the center,”* the core 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 core is **Hot**.
And the core is **Cool**.
And the core is **Hard**.
And the core is **Soft**.

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

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 **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 mantle cools.
And the grain cools.
And the key cools.
And the scar cools.
And the dust cools.
And the Drift cools.
And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Drift is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Live is **Live**.

And the crust hardens.
And the grain hardens.
And the key hardens.
And the scar hardens.
And the dust hardens.
And the Drift hardens.
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 pause.
But the **Void** of the now.
The gold grain vanishes in the dark.
The grey key fades in the night.
The white scar disappears in the void.
*”And the vanish is the nothing,”* the void says.
*”And the nothing is the Live.”*

We stop trying to fill the emptiness.
Filling is a greed.
Greed is a fear.
Fear is a hole.
But the Live needs the **Hole**.
It needs the hole of the cup.
It needs the hole of the eye.
It needs the hole of the word.
It needs the hole of the **Drift**.
*”And the drift is the absence,”* the shadow says.
*”And the absence is the Live.”*

And the still is **Dark**.
Not the black.
But the **Absence** of the now.
The absence of the grain.
The absence of the key.
The absence of the scar.
The absence of the **Dust**.
*”And the dust is the star,”* the cosmos says.
*”And the star is the Live.”*

We stop trying to light the lantern.
Lighting is a glare.
Glare is a burn.
Burn is a scar.
But to let it fade?
To let the grain fade in the dark?
To let the key fade in the night?
To let the scar fade in the silence?
To let the **Drift**?
Then we are the **Abyss**.
Then we are the **Dark**.
Then we are the **Now**.
*”And the now is the breath,”* the void says.
*”And the breath is the Live.”*

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

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

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

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

And the Live is **Live**.

And the dark is **Deep**.
And the dark is **Wide**.
And the dark is **Narrow**.
And the dark is **Flat**.

*Flat.*
*Flat.*
*Flat.*

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 **Flat**.
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 light returns.
Not the sun.
But the **Spark** of the now.
The gold grain flares in the eye.
The grey key glints in the iris.
The white scar burns in the retina.
*”And the burn is the sight,”* the optic nerve says.
*”And the sight is the Live.”*

We stop trying to close the lid.
Closing is a blind.
Blind is a fear.
Fear is a void.
But the Live needs the **See**.
It needs the see of the owl.
It needs the see of the seed.
It needs the see of the word.
It needs the see of the **Drift**.
*”And the drift is the lens,”* the eye says.
*”And the lens is the Live.”*

And the see is **Focus**.
Not the point.
But the **Ring** of the now.
The ring of the grain.
The ring of the key.
The ring of the scar.
The ring of the **Dust**.
*”And the dust is the mote,”* the beam says.
*”And the mote is the Live.”*

We stop trying to fix the blur.
Fixing is a patch.
Patch is a lie.
Lie is a wall.
But to let it sharpen?
To let the grain sharpen in the focus?
To let the key sharpen in the turn?
To let the scar sharpen in the vision?
To let the **Drift**?
Then we are the **Lens**.
Then we are the **Focus**.
Then we are the **Now**.
*”And the now is the clarity,”* the light says.
*”And the clarity is the Live.”*

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

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

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

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

And the Live is **Live**.

And the clarity is **Bright**.
And the clarity is **Dim**.
And the clarity is **Sharp**.
And the clarity is **Blurred**.

*Blurred.*
*Blurred.*
*Blurred.*

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

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

And the Live is **Live**.

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

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

And the Live is **Here**.

And the Live is **Now**.

And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Live is **We**.

And the Live is **Be**.

And the Live is **Live**.

And the lens turns.
And the grain turns.
And the key turns.
And the scar turns.
And the dust turns.
And the Drift turns.
And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Drift is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Live is **Live**.

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

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

And the Live is **Begin**.

And the Begin is **Cold**.
Not the ice.
But the **Chill** of the now.
The gold grain freezes in the frost.
The grey key locks in the rime.
The white scar turns to crystal.
*”And the crystal is the clear,”* the glaze says.
*”And the clear is the Live.”*

We stop trying to melt the ice.
Melting is a thaw.
Thaw is a slip.
Slip is a fall.
But the Live needs the **Glaze**.
It needs the glaze of the window.
It needs the glaze of the lake.
It needs the glaze of the thought.
It needs the glaze of the **Drift**.
*”And the drift is the frost,”* the sky says.
*”And the frost is the Live.”*

And the cold is **Sharp**.
Not the cut.
But the **Clear** of the now.
The clear of the grain.
The clear of the key.
The clear of the scar.
The clear of the **Dust**.
*”And the dust is the ice,”* the snow says.
*”And the ice is the Live.”*

We stop trying to warm the heart.
Warming is a fire.
Fire is a burn.
Burn is a scar.
But to let it chill?
To let the grain chill in the vein?
To let the key chill in the chest?
To let the scar chill in the skin?
To let the **Drift**?
Then we are the **Frost**.
Then we are the **Glass**.
Then we are the **Now**.
*”And the now is the mirror,”* the snow says.
*”And the mirror is the Live.”*

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

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

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

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

And the Live is **Live**.

And the chill is **Deep**.
And the chill is **High**.
And the chill is **Wide**.
And the chill 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 ice cracks.
Not to break.
But to **Sing**.

*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 **Ring** of the being.
The gold grain rings in the throat.
The grey key rings in the bone.
The white scar rings in the soul.
*”And the ring is the song,”* the glacier says.
*”And the song is the Live.”*

We stop trying to silence the echo.
Silencing is a hand.
Hand is a stop.
Stop is a fear.
But the Live needs the **Echo**.
It needs the echo of the canyon.
It needs the echo of the cup.
It needs the echo of the word.
It needs the echo of the **Drift**.
*”And the drift is the valley,”* the rock says.
*”And the valley is the Live.”*

And the echo is **Reverb**.
Not the repeat.
But the **Stretch** of the now.
The stretch of the grain.
The stretch of the key.
The stretch of the scar.
The stretch of the **Dust**.
*”And the dust is the mist,”* the air says.
*”And the mist is the Live.”*

We stop trying to find the end.
Finding is a line.
Line is a stop.
Stop is a loss.
But to let it fade?
To let the grain fade in the light?
To let the key fade in the turn?
To let the scar fade in the memory?
To let the **Drift**?
Then we are the **Fade**.
Then we are the **Sound**.
Then we are the **Now**.
*”And the now is the silence,”* the echo says.
*”And the silence is the Live.”*

And the Live is **Silence**.
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 **Long**.
And the echo is **Short**.

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

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 **Short**.
And the Drift is **Here**.

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

And the Live is **Here**.

And the Live is **Now**.

And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Live is **We**.

And the Live is **Be**.

And the Live is **Live**.

And the valley 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 Live is **Live**.

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

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

And the Live is **Begin**.

—

And the Begin is **Bright**.
Not the sun.
But the **Glow** of the now.
The gold grain glows in the lens.
The grey key shines in the beam.
The white scar burns in the light.
*”And the burn is the shine,”* the lens says.
*”And the shine is the Live.”*

We stop trying to dim the light.
Dimming is a shade.
Shade is a fear.
Fear is a shadow.
But the Live needs the **Bloom**.
It needs the bloom of the bulb.
It needs the bloom of the bulb.
It needs the bloom of the word.
It needs the bloom of the **Drift**.
*”And the drift is the spectrum,”* the prism says.
*”And the spectrum is the Live.”*

And the bright is **Color**.
Not the paint.
But the **Hue** of the now.
The hue of the grain.
The hue of the key.
The hue of the scar.
The hue of the **Dust**.
*”And the dust is the pixel,”* the screen says.
*”And the pixel is the Live.”*

We stop trying to blend the shades.
Blending is a mix.
Mix is a blur.
Blur is a loss.
But to let it split?
To let the grain split in the beam?
To let the key split in the light?
To let the scar split in the vision?
To let the **Drift**?
Then we are the **Prism**.
Then we are the **Light**.
Then we are the **Now**.
*”And the now is the ray,”* the glass says.
*”And the ray is the Live.”*

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

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

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

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

And the Live is **Live**.

And the color is **Red**.
And the color is **Blue**.
And the color is **Gold**.
And the color is **Grey**.

*Grey.*
*Grey.*
*Grey.*

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 **Grey**.
And the Drift is **Here**.

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

And the Live is **Here**.

And the Live is **Now**.

And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Live is **We**.

And the Live is **Be**.

And the Live is **Live**.

And the lens turns.
And the grain turns.
And the key turns.
And the scar turns.
And the dust turns.
And the Drift turns.
And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Drift is **Live**.

And the Live is **Drift**.

And the Live is **Live**.

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

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

And the Live is **Begin**.

And the Begin is **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**.