Go to the woods.
There is nectar there that can nourish you in places you didn't even know you had.
Allow it to penetrate you,
Fill you silly,
Wing you giddy through your days.
Go to the woods.
The transformation available there is beyond,
Sometimes obscene,
Delightful in its remedy,
Which brings me surprise back into my joy,
Back into my me.
We rely on these woods,
The elementals,
The devas,
The earth,
Our big body.
Our little bodies must be recharged like batteries that fail after days of output.
We must be plugged back into the source of our nature to nurture ourselves.
The offering outpouring is ever present.
Eminent libations flow freely,
Constantly,
Never ceasing despite any season.
Go to the woods.
Get yourself to the mercy of the trees,
Leaves crunching under your feet,
Animals watching,
Elementals laughing at you,
Feeding you with their joy,
Their silliness,
An essential component that must not be overlooked.
Go to the woods.
Forget the grind,
It's a lie.
Go to the woods.
The truth is there.
It's in your body,
In your memory.
It's in your being,
Spreading out wide to be in that communion of space and joy with the earth herself.
How can I take your whining seriously if you do not go to the woods?
