Not enough anymore to wait for perfect timing, the outcome presses in the mirror, crow’s feet, tired eyes, and we must get back on route, but doubt sticks to the background, circling like those desert raptors outside.
What else is vulture trying to convey?
He’s been present along our travels for a few years now; a common species, ancient and wise. Something to do with carcasses left on the road, from a way of living in previous paradigms of progress, success, and pleasure. Carcasses of places and games taken too far, for too long. I see people decay as they live, their bodies dragged by consumerism, instant gratification. I see excess, people mesmerized back to the animalistic, driven by blunted senses, from so many additives and experience enhancers.
Vultures hover, circling, like they’re waiting for a known outcome, but I do not know how to wait without looping into my own: craving total freedom from a system already in place. I see players seeking advantage, suited up in opportunism; slaves to the next best thing rush by, going nowhere new. Remnants of glories past seem so silly, now that less has proven to be so much more.
I wish for our safe passage, an opening that´ll get us to our true land, of red earth, clay, and master weavers; heat and underground cool, protection enriched by soul. Visionaries of new days, foundational, mystical songs, and stone temples carved by the wind.
Spirit of vulture, teach us now how to ride the thermals and soar.
