The Patron Saint of Abundance

Tumbling towards potential dismemberment

Control's relevance ceases to matter

A mountaintop foray gone astray

Once was sitting serene on snowy perch, mesmerised in a frosty arena

Without warning, urged by dumb reflex

As camera slid off mountain

So did its owner

Lurching headfirst into a disorientating carousel of landscape and sky

How can such juxtapositions inhabit reality?

Is it proof that chronology is futile?

Or a botched editing job from upstairs?

Two moments, two choices

The first: panic

Result: cracked bones on rocks

The second choice: relaxation

Result: life continues no matter if knee and thighbones are connected

And then stillness, an abrupt, inexplicable halt

The evaporation of polarity

A temporary shunt into pure balance

Suddenly motionless with all limbs intact, fifty metres from the summit

The gratitude to be alive as exquisite as it is unbelievable

The patron saint of abundance visits those that dive off mountains, and then relax

One would expect a gluttonous figure weighed by excess

But this patron saint is almost emaciated

Stripped back for it trusts that abundance is always here

With gaping-eyed wonder, this figure asks but one question:

How committed are you to leaping after what you believe, and then letting it all go?

This patron saint is present with every breath

Proof is in every exhalation

Each diaphragmatic motion a reminder of perpetual gain

The dawning of eternal abundance