There are
rocks everywhere, big & small, smooth & sharp, heavy & light,
porous & dense.
The world
is made of rock.
They are
abundant.
The slabs I
cannot move.
The pebbles
fit in my pocket.
A
wheelbarrow or rolling suitcase works well for those of good, durable size.
I find
them.
I place
them.
One after
the other, beside the other, fitting like puzzle pieces, all pointy ends down,
anchoring into mud.
"What
are you doing?" they will ask.
I am
building a road.
I believe
in roads.
Sure-footed
paths from one place to the next.
I believe
in people visiting their neighbors.
In change
of scenery.
In new
lands & new challenges.
In getting
away.
I do not
believe in the military.
Or enforced
education.
Or prisons.
Or raping
any land for any resource.
I do not
believe in mind control.
Or
politics.
Or child
abuse.
Or
employment.
Or
unemployment.
Or business
of any kind, really.
I do not
believe in income or expenses, in buying or selling.
What I
believe in is giving & sharing & enjoying & dancing & savoring
& loving & tending & sleeping soundly every night, no harm
received, no harm done.
And so I am
building this road from material already covering the surface of the earth,
only not quite as neatly as my puzzle rock pieces fit together, edges nestled
tighter to provide a firm walking surface that will last hundreds of years,
maybe more.
They are
just beginning to recognize roads of people no one knew existed, after all,
people who lived in ways & built things previously considered inconceivable
for their era.
I no longer
pay taxes or work for a living because I no longer strive or struggle to get
ahead.
If I want
to get anywhere, I can just walk on my road and see where it leads.
Even where
I've not yet laid rock, the road exists, invisible, waiting.
TO BE CONTINUED...
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