Morning pages

Three thousand, seven hundred physical kilometers and this circle within The Circle is closed.
Then, later today, I return to my home.
A journey begun, and ended.
A year begun, and ended.
A new year begun, and in retrospect of my road trip, I know a vastly different life chapter begins too.
New relationships with souls too; wonderful, loving, creative and healing souls.
Support-and-love-structures have been put in place, not by me: I'm dazzled by the texture, color and intensity of the high definition vista before me; there's an immensely deep, calm pool of water at its epicenter.

I'm back in Joburg.
Lying on the couch I enter the pages (morning has broken, blackbird has spoken).
I return to my secret garden.
All across my country the national roads are filled with sun-kissed and lithe holiday bodies.
The holidays are over, thank God I'm almost sad to say.
Thank God.
(We journey so that we can look into the mirror, while holding up the mirror for those with balls enough to look into their own abysses.)
How on earth can I walk on water if I don't get out of the boat?
I choose to live my life getting out the boat every single day, every day.
While the risks are immense, I'd rather drown than be the living dead.