The Mark

It is like a chalkboard
Slate
It is covered in writing
Whatever it says
In a second
With the help of a wet wash rag
It is all gone
Wiped clean.

Cleared, erased, bare, fresh, new
Then every tiny mark of chalk
That gets written after
Is radiant
Its there
What does it say
If it is a dot
It radiates
If it is a line
It radiates
If it is a word
It radiates
The more that is there though
The less every mark means.

Making any mark is extremely powerful
Being covered in nonsense is useless
Having a body is like
Having the power to erase everything on the chalkboard and start fresh
Most of us on the planet right now have permanent chalk
So even when we try to erase it
It’s like the old chalkboard where the chalk kinda spreads all over
Lifetime after lifetime
Our boards are covered with chalk
But it doesn’t matter cause
when chalk and water and rag come together
The slate is cleared and we start afresh, anew
We have an opportunity
So it is with this body.

Depending on how much water is on the rag
Is how clean we’ll get our chalkboard
The more wet it is
each time we go to wipe it
the more water penetrates chalk
chalk penetrates rag
slate becomes more clear
So we learn to find water
To dip our rag in
To know we’re in the direction
And each time we clean it
Only to look again, to find that our slate has more chalk
It’s just another opportunity to
Once again find the water, dip our rag in, and wipe the board.

Lifetimes of this process
Lifetimes of chalk
Lifetimes of water and cloth
Lifetimes of the motion
Wipe it away
Watch the chalk return
Wipe it away
Watch it return
Wipe it away
Watch
Wipe
Watch
Wipe
Until the dot of chalk is so precious
We long for the motion of wiping
We long for the dust of chalk
We long for its mark.

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