cicada-on-boys-face

Breaking Free: A lesson from the Cicada

cicada-on-boys-face

The call into the old ways of things can be manic.  The ego screams and shouts, pulling me back into a bottomless pit of never-ending seeking and   scratching to find an existence in a world I do not understand and do not belong to.
The behavior management found in the systems of moralism for a non-linear, multifaceted being doesn’t make sense to me.  I’m pulled to and fro like a sailor with an intention of keeping his tiny little boat afloat in gale force winds when all I want to do is give myself fully to the sea as a lover that longs for me, cradling me, even if it means death.  The effort seems pointless.

Meaning.  Where is it to be found in this world when the vindication of truth stalks me to listen, but I can’t because my ears are deafened by the radicalness of what others tell me to think.

Escape to the simple complexity of the wild in nature is my only relief for if I don’t, the bottle pulls at me through temptations to render myself useless to the sweet taste of a well poured drink into the intoxication of my inner soul.

Nights of being left worthless on the couch can’t go on.  I must keep striving, I must keep using this force…for it is all I know. Wandering through the forests of the world, intending to get lost, hoping and praying the woods will take me for I know life and death is all around me in God’s creation that seems to make sense in my heart. Tired and breathless, unable to take another step to the hills’ summit, I stop and as if being catapulted to another time and place, I see the life form that changes it all.

He too is born with wings, breaking free from the cage of his birth.  The Cicada levies himself upward. He sings the songs from within to experience his own beauty yet his ears close to be trapped in nothingness if it weren’t for a vibrational frequency that raises him to another purpose.

What seems worthless, worn and not intended for this world, comes alive in a spectacle of creation leaving his exoskeleton behind as a remembrance of what he once was.

My ego wants to tell me I’m connected to a three inch insect, however I feel I’m being shown something much, much more divine.  I’m seeing my own life before me and hope stirs through my body as visions return to the heart, giving a life-pumping vigor for dreams once left abandoned.

The transformation of change is upon me and I’m left intoxicated once again, yet this time, it’s the new me, the breaking free of the old, stepping boldly into the new to fly and spread my wings wide.

Thank you…to the lessons from the Cicada.

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