Schisms Cease

The fragments stir.  The isolated parts start to vibrate.  The pick up on the resonance, if only a little.  Could there be others?  Am I the only one?  A hope, a quite voice inside wonders if I'm not.  But in order to move from my position, I first must melt.  My edges and limbs are to stale and stuck to move me towards what I hope for.  Shall I let go?  Yes.  I quit trying to push out and come in.  My edges and limbs quit trying so hard to hold their ground.  Can I soften?  Yes.  The edges are already of a softer consistency.  Moving in, the core seems less frozen, there is some movement.  Shall I continue?  Yes.  It's scary, but strangely liberating.  Ok, here we go.  I give way a little more.  The edges have now migrated towards the middle, the middle mix with the edges, the core seeps into the others.  The parts of myself that once were divided, once compartmentalized, start to share with each other.  I feel like a being instead of a robot.  Or at least the start of one.  Shall I continue?  Yes.  I give way more, the middle starts to collapse, the edges join force.  What was once hard and sharp has become moldable, responsive to the air and ground.  Now I am a puddle on the ground, but not stationary.  The ground is sloped.  I'm flowing in a direction.  What's that to the left?!  Another liquid blob, flowing too!  We gain speed.  And now ahead and to the sides more moving blobs of different colors and sizes become visible.  We all make our way down the slope, from each side of the center?  What happens when we meet?  And then, it happens.  We join.  We come together.  The colors mix.  What once was small dabs of liquid making our way along joins and continues to join others.  Till be become a tributary.  A river.  And finally, we reach the ocean.  All.  Is.  Well.