Sunday

Breaking Eggs

It was a long time ago, the wild days, hedonism and music outside of time and space. Internal cosmonauts setting sail for the far inner reaches propelled by hallucinogens and prayer. Sacred smoke a daily sacrement shared by two, to give them eyes to see what others didn't. Cocooned inside the egg of their own making, a rare reality. But even the toughest shells begin to crack when the life inside has filled up all of the available room. Growth needs space. So in the spirit of evolurion she walked away, leaving him standing there alone amongst the shards of shattered shell. And life as it always does, moved on...

4 comments:

Selma said...

It does indeed move on. A very well crafted piece. Love the coccoon image and how it shatters.

Singer said...

Thanks Selma, good to see you. ;)

Val said...

Inevitably, there is always a walking away. I'm still on a hiatus, but this post has been on my mind since I read it a few days ago and because you always write thought provoking pieces, I needed to tell you that it hits the bullseye dead centre for all of us at one time or another. We live, we grow, we die. hugs and thank you for your good vibes to me, they are returned in multiples my dear.

Singer said...

Thanks Val, it is always good to see you here. Take care of yourself and thanks for the hugs. x