Sacred Amazonic

It rarely appeared, only when it was called. But that was the problem, I forgot to call it, and I forget this often. However, as the trees are eternal, so is the moment sacred.

And eventually all elements of justly undirected denial redeemed their essence, then and where we bared our souls. All lives unwound into regressed images of our youths, all the while we retained little recollection of our dire situations. Still, there was an unrecoverable element which remained there, slowly ascending in the early sky, without our acknowledgement.

My feet in the silent pool, I was just thinking about this and that and all about, but really it was the attention centered on the moment. All around me slow steam made it's way upwards, glamoured by the rays of the renewed sun- recurring moment- yet I forgot about the unlimited bounties the grinding keystones of my life furnished me and I dared deeper. All forgotten, lying in the emerald river that we created amongst destroyed empires and crushed pillars of inconsequential conventions, there was one meaning that simultaneously escaped us and still retained an influence over us. There would undeniably always be that which kept us lying calmly on the lit ripples, phosphorescent blades in the amazonic river which pulled us inevitably towards it. It.