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I got it from my mother. What lives dies. The key is looped on to a shred of skin cut from a cow. I wear it around my neck. I can use the key at my discretion to let the wildman out of his cage. Call him Iron John if you will. I don't let him out very often. Someimes I don't know when I'm doing it. I forget myself at times and wear a mask or is it all the time? The toys I play with are not enough even though they are golden. They will remain toys unless I play with them near the wildman. Then they become tools. When they become tools my heart beats like a drum. Spirits roar like flames. A new creature that I do not understand is born. When I do let him out he if free of the cage and is free to do courageous acts, free to do unusal things, free to ignore a thousand voices, free to take chances and challenges like walking on fire or water but he is also free to fall, free to starve. Just as I am free to forget that he even exists. This key reminds me that one of us is in disguise. Ed Tedrow, 2004 NOMC Spring Retreat |
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