Locked-Up Outside

And I got lost again in the external religion. I have once again tried to superimpose with pathological precision what I do and what some claim must absolutely be done.

I forgot that by following this path, one never manages to go along the watercourse, to drink from it, to take a few drops in one’s hands,

To place them in the center of one’s forehead.

The questioning of the external correspondence between what I do and what I would be supposed to do if I follow the instructions, is necessarily a path that gets lost in the forest and when the night falls, the pilgrim will not have watered his face.

He who can feel the air current that will lead him to the watercourse and drops all maps and the surveys of others, who abandons the stories of adventurers of the past, the philosophies, the notebooks of travelers of the present,
Such a man is blessed.

©FJ August2024
Recueils / Participation/ Groupe