Beautiful! ❤️
And exactly right! It seems to be about “Going with The Flow” and trusting It!
But there is no “security” there.
Nothing to “hang” onto!
The question is:
If there is simply and only “Going with The Flow” what is there is hang onto? And What exactly is there, seemingly, hanging on?
And the answer is: Nothing! There just appears to be!
The Flow casts no judgement.
It’s free.
Just to Flow.
And It’s Perfect.
Clear.
Pure and Simple.
As Water Is.
It meanders where it will. And it reaches The Ocean always. Or evapourates. Or stagnates. Or turns to ice and turns into….Well, it has so many forms but it is still and ever is Water.
And it can seem to be a scary moment to Let Go…
And Trust It.
Thanks for your comments Susan they are like a poetic adornment! I looked up ‘No answer came the stern reply’ and found a poem in poetrysoup.com so I got some poetry there too…
“Who am I,” asked the Bunyip. “What am I doing here?”
“Please tell me,” begged the Bunyip,” for my purpose isn’t clear.”
“No answer!” came the stern reply; “You’ll get no help from me!”
Poor Bunyip, he began to cry, “Doesn’t anyone know me?”
And thus he went a-wandering, searching far and wide
For someone who could put an end to his longing, deep inside.
One day, he found a piece of glass, discarded by a lake.
He gazed into its surface … OH! That was his big mistake!
For in that glass, he met Himself … the image struck him dumb;
No-one could love that ugly mug! (Except perhaps his Mum …)
So, overcome by black despair, the poor old Bunyip sobbed.
The tears poured down his warty cheeks, and ran into his gob.
He cried all night, and then all day, and then all night again.
The rain it poured, the wind it howled as if to voice his pain …
Then suddenly emerged a shape, out of the Primal Soup,
Round and warty … big and black … The Bunyip was cock-a-hoop!
“Who am I?” asked the creature,
(In strangely girlish voice.)
The Bunyip’s pulse began to race …
His lumpy heart rejoiced …
“What am I?” begged the creature.
“Oh! I WISH that I could see!”
“You’re a Bunyip!” cried the Bunyip,
“And you look, … well,
“Just like ME!”
;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;
A bunyip, as our Aussie members will know, is a mythical creature – or is it?
They are said to inhabit small ponds, and are lovable – but not handsome …”
Susan
Beautiful! ❤️
And exactly right! It seems to be about “Going with The Flow” and trusting It!
But there is no “security” there.
Nothing to “hang” onto!
The question is:
If there is simply and only “Going with The Flow” what is there is hang onto? And What exactly is there, seemingly, hanging on?
And the answer is: Nothing! There just appears to be!
The Flow casts no judgement.
It’s free.
Just to Flow.
And It’s Perfect.
Clear.
Pure and Simple.
As Water Is.
It meanders where it will. And it reaches The Ocean always. Or evapourates. Or stagnates. Or turns to ice and turns into….Well, it has so many forms but it is still and ever is Water.
And it can seem to be a scary moment to Let Go…
And Trust It.
PS! Lovely to put a Face to the words!
PS.
Susan
And, of course, the question remains…
Who (or what) Trusts It?
And who (0r what) answers?
“No answer came the stern reply!”
Love
The Cosmic Joke
❤️
Nick Williams
Thanks for your comments Susan they are like a poetic adornment! I looked up ‘No answer came the stern reply’ and found a poem in poetrysoup.com so I got some poetry there too…
Susan
HA! Me too!
“The Bunyip
“Who am I,” asked the Bunyip. “What am I doing here?”
“Please tell me,” begged the Bunyip,” for my purpose isn’t clear.”
“No answer!” came the stern reply; “You’ll get no help from me!”
Poor Bunyip, he began to cry, “Doesn’t anyone know me?”
And thus he went a-wandering, searching far and wide
For someone who could put an end to his longing, deep inside.
One day, he found a piece of glass, discarded by a lake.
He gazed into its surface … OH! That was his big mistake!
For in that glass, he met Himself … the image struck him dumb;
No-one could love that ugly mug! (Except perhaps his Mum …)
So, overcome by black despair, the poor old Bunyip sobbed.
The tears poured down his warty cheeks, and ran into his gob.
He cried all night, and then all day, and then all night again.
The rain it poured, the wind it howled as if to voice his pain …
Then suddenly emerged a shape, out of the Primal Soup,
Round and warty … big and black … The Bunyip was cock-a-hoop!
“Who am I?” asked the creature,
(In strangely girlish voice.)
The Bunyip’s pulse began to race …
His lumpy heart rejoiced …
“What am I?” begged the creature.
“Oh! I WISH that I could see!”
“You’re a Bunyip!” cried the Bunyip,
“And you look, … well,
“Just like ME!”
;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;
A bunyip, as our Aussie members will know, is a mythical creature – or is it?
They are said to inhabit small ponds, and are lovable – but not handsome …”
❤️ A Bunyip!