By the long count, I’m just a starling alighting on a moment, flitting away on a spark of light, one downy feather drifting down in my wake.
I am star dust.
By the long count, I watch my life, my aging, through a whirling tunnel of focus, a worm hole warping my soul from one end to the other.
I am earth.
By the long count, I flow through life bright and dark, calamity to blessing, storm to pleasure to travail, rushing through moments uncounted.
I am water.
By the long count, we can be like the lilies of the field, beautiful in just being, toiling not, wanting not, but our arrested moments won’t let us.
I am ice.
By the long count, I do my penance and wait…
In a moment all our moments can drop away like that feather while our souls fly free into the endless light, skipping away on the sky, debating the weight of their value
I am the feather on Horus’s scale.