To be taken completely

Todo te lo tragaste, como la lejanía.
Como el mar, como el tiempo. En todo lo que se hundió!

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‘City folk don’t consciously think about the rain, wind and clouds. They don’t. To them it all just belongs to the realm of the invisible. Like perhaps that mysterious dimension where pens and paper clips always seem to disappear into…never to be found again. The stuff of its there, but not really there just like fire extinguishers, elevator music and everything that probably exist only in the blur of the peripheral.

But farmers are very different I reckon. As they’re always consciously of everything that’s happening around them. To them no two rains are ever the same. Each is different. Each is to it’s own.

And if one should decide one day to step right out of the gyre of the perpetual. To just stop and remain so very still and watch it all unfold. To even be so incredibly present of the moment as to be able to sense the gentle caress of wind and how it curls around the legs like the brush of a cat. Suddenly, that which was once invisible begins to take shape and form.

Yes…..You’ve have been swallowed whole by a whale. You’re in a swirl. A driftwood bobbing in the infinity of something so immensely big and powerful.

And soon the sudden realization hits you….I’ve been swallowed!’