I flow from morning into night, from sleep into shower, from clothed into fed, from energized into worn away.

I flow into you and you into me. Sometimes the flow looks like stumbling, but it’s just made up of tiny little fluid movements that are far away from each other, giving an illusion of stumbling.

My words flow from my mouth to your ears. You may not hear them if you’re not listening, or if your filters are engaged, or if you’re too far away, but they are still flowing your way.

I flow from this life into the next realm, whatever that may be. Maybe it’s the next life, maybe it’s compost, but either way, it is flow.

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