The arms of unconscious consciousness

i am sitting in a tree. People are walking over the bridge. They are Going Places. i was going places, doing things – i had a list. Everybody makes Lists. But now, at least here, in this moment, in this space, i find myself outside the melting pot of societal urgencies – I am sitting in a tree. Sitting in a tree and sipping corporate jello while people come and go, talking of Michelangelo…(the oft quoted words of prufrock whisper tentatively in my brain…)

Going places. hmm. i wonder where i am going? If only i could sit enshrouded in the tree until this indeterminate equation comes to an end. A tree doesn’t judge. A tree doesn’t criticize. And yet, i feel that tree’s still manage love. i listen to the presence… Trying to hear it speak. But this is no fairy tale fantasy. The tree remains loving, Silent; as squirrels waltz by.

I am still sitting in a tree. People are still going places. But, for the moment I am content to leave the places to them. I have found what I’m here for. I remain, for some arbitrary amount of time, sitting…

Sitting in a Tree.

Written by Josh Enns