the exit is in reverse , the starting of the verse, the myth , the beat the silent snare,

paat at……paat at………..familiar waves , notions of toils

un wound to find nothing but a wonder.

But a wonder, a wondering, wondering star

far from home yet not so far,

close enough to feel, footsteps arrive at dawn,

forlorn sits the shaman,

that’s where we are we are the wondering star

the traveling star whilst sitting down.
Perpetual movement..

TO FEEL THE WONDER IS THE WONDER FOR FREE

yet it seems that in these lives..
THERE IS NOTHING THAT IS THERE ... all but perceptions , perceptive chance that may so happen to cross , with yours or the ants or the bees


THERE IS  NO THING THAT is free,
but there is exchange.