FOREVER IS MADE UP OF LOOPS

 

Epilogue

Bumblebee’s Biography is elusive, does not seem to want to take a clear form.
It feels like such a non-issue, in the here & now.
An existence mostly (rather than a sequence of distinct events)… stretching over time, suspended in it, floating, flowing, continuous, undramatic… yet far from boring or irrelevant.
Infinite beginnings, countless repetitions, constant change. A history like a weaving… an expanse of time and space, laid out into all dimensions and merging from all directions. If there ever was a beginning, it lies beyond the horizon of my current senses.

What I do know, is that Bumblebee is age-old. As old as flowers, nearly as old as trees, possibly as old as the hum of Life. Been around a lot, seen so much and encountered so many! Absorbing and emitting all kinds of vibes along the way: collecting, connecting, cross-pollinating. Lingering…listening…loving.

Looping, looping, looping – towards endless possibilities!

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Train ride in bright sunshine Stations wizzing by, then a bridge. Under September clouds a single bird turns and completes a new spiral.   The sunlight blinds me I close my eyes, let the frail warmth sink in and fill my features.   Time for waiting