Free At Last! Free At Last!
Thank Ev, I'm free at last...
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Tao Te Ching. Number 8.
My favorite number.
Translation by Gia-Fu Feng and Jane English

The highest good is like water.
Water gives life to the ten-thousand things and does not strive.
It flows in places men reject and so is like the Tao.

In dwelling, be close to the land.
In meditation, go deep in the heart.
In dealing with others,be gentle and kind.
In speech be true.
In ruling be just.
In business be competent.
In action, watch the timing.

No fight: No blame.

The word is broken. The world is broken.
Again, Marek, who could be my other son, my sweet little Polish grown-up-boy, breaks our hearts, opens our own wounds with the sharp breaths of his ghosts.

What riddles are you speaking? The world is broken because I am broken. If I wasn't broken then the world wouldn't be broken. I want to be whole again, I want the world to be whole again. I am searching, I am so tired of searching. I read the writings of humanity, looking for the presence in the arrangement of symbols, looking for the magic sentence to make me whole again. I don't want to be broken, alone, disconnected. Afraid. Make me whole again. Make my Poland whole again

Motherlands and eternally disappointing females and words and worlds and whirlwind riddles. Chris Locke is right. Marek is right. It is all the same. It is all both.

I wrote this twenty years ago:

Once I wore the mask of the Shaman,
followed the rain
and flowed in the oak.
A grave of leaves marked
the way of my journey.
Stones rose at my call,
and night rode my shoulder
like an old crow, fat and familiar.

I don't know where the rain has gone.
The wind has breathed the leaves to dust,
and the stones have turned to silence.

Poets and Shamans --
where are we
now?

We are here. In the motherblogland. Marek. Jeszcze Polska nie znigela, puki my zyjemy.