The Tale of the Twig

Consciousness is a flow. A flow without object or objective. I am that flow. Consciousness is what I am. Without agenda, action or activity. Until, like a twig floating on the surface of consciousness, I am caught in a current that pulls me into a counterflow and interrupts my infinite journey in eternity. There I am. Caught in the debris, not of my own making. Trapped. With the need to survive, I adapt and am conditioned and confined in the circumstance in which I find myself. Consciousness flows on and awareness attaches me to this world of chaos and confusion, fear and hurt, belief. The illusion of my senses and the delusions of my mind take over the I that I am and I succumb to a world in which I come to believe is true. But Something knows this is not so. Yes, I am form and thought but I am also Spirit. Form and thought lead to betrayal in the end. Spirit is the foundation on which I stand. This place whereon I stand is Holy Ground. I am made in the image and likeness of Grace. And slowly, by Grace, I disengage from the world and enter The Silence. Just for a moment. And that moment becomes another and then, another. And by Grace I am freed from the ties that bind and ever so slowly released from the conditioning. Until one fine day The Light is invited into the darkness and the darkness disappears. In The Light darkness is nothing. I does not exist. As Truth reveals the lie and, being a lie, it is no more. If I bear witness to myself, my witness is not true. Truth reveals it is a lie. Now I can leave the nets that have trapped me. I am released, redeemed and renewed. I break free and I am set into the stream of consciousness once again. I am the I am that I am to be. I am free. I am home.