Running

I ran through the forest and into the mystic. The green leave filtered sunlight in contrast with the dusted naked sunlight gave the earth a heavenly glow. The unknowable, was knowable, the unattainable, attainable. There was mystery still, but there was means to solving that mystery. It was almost as if God was walking through that forest, or was I walking through the mystic of divine? A simple pile of an animals poop became a sign that life was nearby, the call of birds were the real singing of angels.
I ran for joy, I ran for life, I ran for my life, for my joy. I ran because I want to catch up with myself, with the I AM. Though those hundreds of sleeping ents, and millions of billions of microbes, I could still see the illuminated path, the journey to whom I am and who I want to become. I can’t not fight anymore, I must charge through the barriers of my happiness, climb the walls of my self-deprecating ego, and fly again.
In the mystic I flew, slowly, steadily, and in a sense still grounded, but I still flew. I wasn’t high, but I wasn’t below the surface of my own grave. I could feel my heart pound, I could hear my breath, and I could see fleeting waves of light. But I am not strong, not yet, but I will be, I will be able to fly higher, and peer into the deepness of myself, and see the greatness of others. To connect and flow in the river of life, that we all are a part of.