DISTRICT II ~ SCOUT in the SPRING GARDEN

I, of Consciousness, find a world of paradoxical fullness and with great care, observe Scout
as she dons her rose-coloured glasses to subdue the growing cacophony, nestled in small village coziness — and yet, I do sense Scout’s subconscious inkling, of subtle sense of change
of possible detriment and I want to protect her so but as Divine Consciousness, I can only hold her world together as it unravels, a cinching in of her garden of accepted diversity.

And I fear so, as any parent does, that her unique Self will be inked like the others
into World of orchestrated conformity and I hope it is not one of despair, so young is she 
the rules still evade her as she lets the screen door slam, jumping down the steps as though without a care in World, learning to stretch the rubber band of her niche a little bit wider, each day, to capture the treasure trove of unveiled finds in expanding Earth’s World.

I note, once again, how the initiation of wonder, is more of an induction—the slow heating of indoctrination into a singular Utopia and pushed aside, insidiously, is the coded insight of the Eastern Sage that shared potential of conscious nourishment for Eco-Soul revelation
and with a glimmer of hope, I see how strongly held is Scout’s naiveté and imagination
still vibrantly entwining new observations, in an playful, unbounded way.

Beneath the sentry blue jay building the nest in the tree with its sturdy branch holding the swing and Scout follows a vanguard of the ants travelling across her yard, likewise, unconfined tasting the most genuine expression of Self, with a primal connection to Earth But, as with all bubbles, this one, too is set to burst, I take note as she begins to voice questions—utterances that she is acquiring the taste fear.

In the decay of innocence reflected in tales of Boo, World’s penned in Scapegoat, the perfect essence of the Mockingbird, commencing the entropy with the conflicting paradoxes
so with an ever stronger determination, Scout does indeed show resistance in her essential naming of things bringing confirmation of her place in World, as though in that, she is endorsing her belonging since, look at all the things that she is connected to.

Even still, though Scout knows knows so little of this, the insidious osmosis-like manoeuvring, has begun melding theInnocent into a dark lyrics beyond her illusions
which persists in shining those blaring, flashing neon lights drowning out Eco-World
and the wind pushes her into an unsteady rhythm with Colony’s savage intent to project 
its own weakness onto Mockingbird and push it down so the bully keeps the crown.

But, Scout knew too much—Eastern Sage Consciousness had taught her well!

~ namasté, Leah J. 🕊

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