There is a hilltop I visit
Wind making waves
In dancing, flowing green grass
Punctuated with blossoms
Where the pheromones of life
Enter my brain undetected
Convince me that all is well
I used to argue with this moment
Knowing as I do
That unless everyone can find their way
To this hilltop
My visit feels like a betrayal
I would find myself there
Resting, gazing at the clouds
And start scolding my back
For lying down
My feet for pointing to the sky
My arms for lying idle
I would pry myself up from the moist earth
And force myself to continue marching
Thankfully, now I can see
The silken threads of vital nutrients
Weaving into my back, legs, feet, and arms
From the rich soil below
And the rainbows hidden in the light
Glistening down from the blue sky
And clouds
I can feel my tired cells plumping up
My brain recharging
My womb swelling with pleasure
My organs re-organizing
Yes, I can still hear the cries
Of my own inner suffering
And that of the world
Calling to me to return
To labor and toil towards liberation
But I know now
That voice advocating for unceasing effort
Is the same voice of enslavement
I am supposed to be toiling against
So today I apply
My overdeveloped muscles of toil
To the effort of staying still
Carving space for stillness
Rest
Pleasure
Out of this solid marble slab of labor
We have been sold
And as my pleasure muscles grow
And my cells are replenished
My organs organize more efficiently
My efforts become effortless
My energy pulses outwards and inwards
In ripples
My efforts become sensual play
Dancing within the flowing fabric of life
I no longer visit this hilltop
But the hilltop visits me
Wherever I am
Whatever I am doing
The green grass is undulating in the wind
And blossoms send Earth’s pheromones
On clandestine missions into my brain
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