Speaking with a Forked Tongue
When did lying become the norm?
Dear friend,
The winds came and blew the cloud cover out over towards the English Channel. It’s blustery and warm. Hotter than you think because of the cooling winds.
The air stream that’s passing through my hair, over my skin, flapping the corners of my shirt, is heading towards Norway. It rustles the leaves of the great tree by the river bank. The one that was a seedling before the road was built, before the electricity pylons and the industrial estates. Before the petrol engine.
Around whom livestock grazed.
The same wind will race down Norwegian fjords. Ruffling the icy waters. Sounding in the branches of spruce and the pine. Snow geese, teal and tundra swan, will ride its currents.
It will spiral around treeless Iceland. Maybe catch the spray of a fin whale, or a rare glimpse of a northern blue surfacing to take in the same air, that now fills my lungs. Diving deep, near the end of their summer’s visit, en route for north west Africa.
One ocean.
One atmosphere.
One planet.
How crazy is it to fight over ideologies?
Thoughts.
I believe in this.
You believe in that.
What does it matter?
Can’t we agree that every human wants to feel safe and loved.
Many people think they don’t deserve it.
Or they can’t have it.
Or they have to be someone other than who they are.
To be acceptable to themselves.
Who hasn’t fallen for that old lie?
The false selfs forked tongue.
The breath becoming word.
Stilling the moment.
One conscious breath.
Kindness is truth.
Forgiveness too.
If what we want is the safety of love.
What we give.
Is all we receive.
Till tomorrow
Love
Mikey