Zean Villongco
The entrance and exit is the same. One. We fade inside the coming, and wherever the road goes, it is. Life. This is the journey and the cycle of life. We live. Not every person breathing lives. Not every person holding his breath has chosen to fall from grace. Compassion. We choose, and even as we choose there are experiences that are chosen for us. So we keep steady in life. We flow with the ripples that the waves do not over take us. We ride them. We hold on to the empty space of air that oxygen continues to fill the lungs of the one breathing. Inhale me. Let me exhale only that I might return again to truth: I am because life is, and life is because it flows through the mysterious particles of our |BE|ing. Who is standing at the center of their own being? Who is courageous enough to let go in order to be held by the divine? Who has allowed pain to pour forth that tears might find their way through cracks in the earth birthing manifestation? Who? We remain connected there, and there is here in the now of existence. We journey. You walk in as I walk out. We share the same entranc|e|xit. We come and we go. We are born and we die, and yet there is neither our birth nor our death. We remain the Is-ness of form inside and outside of texture. For now do we touch each other. Later we will be left with the feel of a breeze.