Notice first that you are not still.
Even now.
Even settled.
Something in you is going.
Current under the skin.
A fine restlessness that won't quite sit down.
The hands want a task.
The mind keeps starting sentences.
Something in you is firing.
And it doesn't stop just because you have stopped.
Nothing's landing.
Don't put it down.
You couldn't if you tried.
Just let it be the first true thing.
You came in lit up.
Half a step ahead of yourself.
The way you have been for a while now.
Let your eyes close if they aren't.
The buzz can come with us.
We are going to follow it.
Let a place come up around you.
You are standing in the open.
A wide field.
A flat stretch of ground.
Let it build from under your feet.
What's there?
Grass.
Stone coming up through the soles.
The light is strange.
Low and held.
The kind of light that comes before weather.
When the sky has gone,
A color doesn't usually go.
And everything under it stands very clear.
And you are very still.
The air is doing something.
You can feel it on your skin.
Charge in it.
The fine hairs on your arms lifting.
A pressure you can't point to.
The whole sky loaded with something it hasn't let go of yet.
And you are still buzzing.
Standing in a charged field.
Sparking a little yourself.
The charge isn't only in you.
It's in the ground.
The air.
The Held Sky.
On your skin.
And out to the far edge of the field.
And out there it's building.
You can feel it gather.
Something coming up slow and huge.
And not yet.
As well.
The whole loaded sky leading toward the moment it tips.
The fast-firing under your skin.
The slow gathering in the sky.
You have been calling it static.
Here,
In the loaded field,
One thing.
Stop firing.
Let the fast,
Small current come to a standstill.
The way a stone thrown straight up hangs still at the top before it drops.
Held there.
Let the hands rest.
Let the sentences go unfinished.
Let the half-step ahead come back and stand with the rest of you.
And in the stillness.
One question.
Hold it.
Then let it go down into the quiet.
There's a part of you.
That has stayed quick for a long time.
Quick on Purpose.
Ask that part.
What is it you won't hold still for?
When you stop firing.
The charge doesn't leave you.
At Lance.
Everything that was running fast and thin under your skin.
It stops running.
And starts arriving.
You held still.
And the thing you were too quick to be reached by.
Reaches you.
Out in the field,
The loaded sky tips.
No crack.
No strike.
Just the long-gathered weight of it.
Coming down.
Not falling on you.
Filling toward you.
Into the ground.
The air.
The body standing in it.
And it is for now.
The thing that was almost.
All the way here.
A fullness that caught up to you.
The moment you held still enough to be caught.
You didn't make it happen.
You stopped getting in its way.
Let the field begin to loosen.
The charged sky.
The open ground.
The fullness setting.
Into you.
You carry it differently now.
The same charge.
Landed.
Quiet because it arrived.
Feel the surface under you.
The room.
The air in it.
The sound of it.
Breathe in.
And let it go.
When there's no reason to wait.
Let your eyes open.
