Divulge, engorge, or give free reign to the opposite of what years of society has tried to get you to shun.
It wanted you to close your eyes and write it all off as a tempestuous slippery slope.
Are you so afraid to slide? Will falling bruise more than your ego? If you are that fraught with fear, what are your real cares?
The ones that you cling to, whether or not they only surface at dawn or dusk, the grainy bits of light disposing your real face.
You say that Spirit is like a tree, quiet and growing, but I scream,
"What the hell are you afraid of?"
Spirit and Risk are brothers.
Seven days in a week, many more in your lifetime, each is part of a map, and each is also sovereign.
A Tree gives breath to the world.