I rose to meet the ashen sun. The shade of the earth, boring its way to my core. Stars fell and, all at once, I grew into myself — the unlikely vestige of my spirit. The soil of my soul breaking into the day opening her womb to me; a vessel of clay I found the enduring edifice eroding to mold me into one state of solidity. The jaguar and the snake, the trees and the plants whispering their truth. I reached for history, the identity of my youth conspiring against my present and I harkened to the call of the jungle. Of Her, the mighty Wisdom heralded as the counterpart of the Logos. In her infinity, as I clawed to find the darkness an ally, she watched — she witnessed her son — once a victim of circumstance, emerge as a survivor. An awakening primitive. The primal birthing. To bloom into the universe, merging with the fire in the sky, dusk becoming as day. I exist in the ether, the fauna bowing to the realization. The awe of another jungleborne…