seems the transport's destination remains unknown, or im not sure who to call for a ride once i've missed the 11:43am or the 12:13pm stop.
...perhaps a consistent persistent attempt at getting home, feels that way when im in it,
the dream can never reveal just quite where im off to, but im running...
and im avid like a fujahtive,
or im primal like a refugee.
the nature of instinct lays in the ability not to debate, but to simply, intrinsically- trust.
it's faith that leads traveling warriors to rise up, run off into the nights and the days, wild like unleashed prisoners... escapees from a zoo.
...the real zoo of life is not in the outer-wordly obstacles but the chaos that's within
bound like a rooted sapling, or sprawling ivy vines striving to elegantly and effortlessly cover the side of someone's home...
either one is a starting point for beginning the pilgrimage to unraveling the balance,
discovering the counter point and breathing into the flow...
chaos disseminates with the exhale of realized mundane... a simple awareness of what is.
the way becomes clear, like a path fading into view within the heart of a great mossy forest, ahead- amidst a tunnel of leaves and a mile of unfaltering beauty...you can see
the distance between here and there, is here.
... the rest is barely visible, but the breeze of promise is a certainty.
