Bucket.

Light. Strings of light…. stretching, yearning… in transit. Shining, bringing life, vessels sprung from energy… now conscious.

Momentum continues. And what feels like time, is really the full formation of our being… another step on a journey of something bigger, as we’re gathered, like seashells pulled from the sand with child’s hand. Never alone, but a collective, with limited understanding.

This body will fade, just as any piece of clothing. The fabric wears thin, loosens its grip, eventually unraveling. Yet, the light continues to expand, shining without fail, wearing this suit or not…  there is no distinction.  We continue to travel on.