An excerpt... What worlds upon worlds are being unravelled here - TopicsExpress



          

An excerpt... What worlds upon worlds are being unravelled here and undone. A heart so raw it barely functions from the threads of flesh that lay hanging off its weary beat. I find myself torn to simplicity and though resistance is not strong, a sweet darkness covers this heart- a door way, a portal to a deeper love, almost allowing an existence of pure freedom where perhaps, just perhaps this heart can shine beyond confines, limitations and doubt. Such a weight, like a saturated blanket, suffocating the landscape of eternity. The fires brew and gather heat and with a suicidal heart, I stoke them further and throw myself deeper amongst them. To have tasted the nectar of freedom, this palate cannot withstand anything less. A diluted cordial has slowly been infiltrating this purity until I stand now, dying of thirst, wondering what went wrong. What seems to be most wrong is that nothing is wrong... Not a beat has been missed, not a hair misplaced on the 60s beehive of existence and yet this feeling of having been ravaged by nothingness is indismissible. It is one thing to be able to follow the beckoning impulses of the moments creativity but to begin to realise how devastatingly I have been compromising and polluting its innocence with my parameters of reason, is crushing. A beautiful and expansive sadness rests here now. A tenderness. A caress of compassion wipes its gentle touch across my brow and sweeps through my heart. All is well, this is clear, but like a lover who has been unfaithful, I am being called to face the wreckage I have amassed in order for love to continue. I sing this mournful, resonant but honest song, that some corner of the universe might hear my heart. Quiet, alone and untouched it can wonder sometimes for what purpose it still continues to beat... On and on, does anybody know what we are living for? And still the sweet irony remains untouched, that even in its seeming lack and in the deepest yearning for its presence, that for which is so desperately longed, IS what expresses now and has never, never left.
Posted on: Tue, 22 Oct 2013 04:53:38 +0000

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