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First Democracy First Democracy
by David Sparenberg
2018-05-26 08:22:19
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I am here.  This is me.  My hands at the ends of my arms twirl, making circular motions.  My soul is lively; my spirit, in motion. My feet at the ends of my legs form patterns, pictographs of where I have been, my direction, where I am heading.  My footsteps follow me, and I am remembered.

Earth—I am walking.

democ001_400The way goes out like this before.  The way goes out like this behind.  I am part of what is out before.  I am part of what is behind.  I am part of it all and all of it is part of me.  Earth and the life of Earth surround me.  Conjoining as far as the eye can see, to be conjoined as far as my legs will take me.

Truth is in good ecosophy.  There is truth in these words.  There is Gospel, meaning Good News, in the urgency of what is said here.

Crookedly the paths meander, passages curving through space and time.  Pleasure is to be found along the journey.  Wonderment springs up; at intervals, nests and ceremonies of the wayside.  Occasions of lamentation.

Deep in the repository of my soul are stored fins to swim in rivers to the oceans.  Deep in the repository of my soul wings await to fly on winds.  Quiet.  Listen.  The sounds of fluttering, all but lost amid the persistence of breath and heartbeat.

My hands make circular motions. Watch now. I fly atop trees, between the metamorphic circus of atmospheric clouds.  My heart, which can betray or affirm us, fills with songs of freedom.  The whale knows more songs than I do.  Bless the whale for singing, the flights of birds and cosmic dreamers.

My hands make circular motions.  I help to shape whatever greets me.  What greets me gives shape to who I am.  Shadow too records memories of life’s communions, broken treaties weighted off against enchantments of connections.

I am here.  This is me.  Out along the Red Path, learning from experience, gleaming from the harvest of first democracy—from first day, hour, minute, breath, when eyes opened, mouth opened, tongue licked delicate lips, fist bawled, unfolded, to clutch at light and air—experiencing what it is to become a human being, Earthling, a person, a presence, on the Living Earth.
 
Whatever I touch touches me before I get there.  Turning toward is communication.  This is how it is here.  How truth is lived on this Living Earth. 

Do not let truth vanish. Do not let Earth die.

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Check David Sparenberg's NEW BOOK
THE GREEN TROUBADOUR A Source Book of Performance Ecosophy
is online now and you can download for FREE HERE!

life_30_400

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David Sparenberg has also 2 more Books in the Ovi Bookshelves,
"Life in the Age of Extinctions volume 2 – Threshold"
Download for FREE HERE!

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