Halloween nears, the veil dissolves
Storms are imminent. The wind is howling, it is 2am, and its music is keeping me awake. In the spaces between my thoughts arising and abating, the wind sings and shouts and stirs the leaves from their cozy sleep on the earth's tender ground.
What is so indefatigably urgent? What are you trying to tell me? I know it but I cannot say it. Words dissolve the message as they take their form. Idle talk, idle talk, all is idle talk.
My spirit is restlessly alive and in its sentience, tangled and tossled between insanity and invigoration. Somewhere deep into those rustling trees a clearing waits in the dark. A vast, black space, guarded from all this poisonous fluorescence. A pure darkness, a perfect void. There, my shadow could no longer haunt me. No shapes could disturb me. No obstructions distress me. No mysterious forms could harass me, for all would be indistinguishably united in blackness.
I will get to this clearing. I'll go now, into the forest. The path is risky. Stumbling is inevitable but choreographed.
I will dream of grace when I finally sleep. I was once a dancer. I could balance and turn simultaneously; a tango of ultimate composure; a union. Poise will emerge from this perplexity, composure will birth from this chaos.
Always; what is, is not, and what is not, is.
"There is no place to seek the mind; it is like the footprints of the birds in the sky. Above, not a piece of tile to cover the head. Beneath, not an inch of earth to put one’s foot on. "
What is so indefatigably urgent? What are you trying to tell me? I know it but I cannot say it. Words dissolve the message as they take their form. Idle talk, idle talk, all is idle talk.
My spirit is restlessly alive and in its sentience, tangled and tossled between insanity and invigoration. Somewhere deep into those rustling trees a clearing waits in the dark. A vast, black space, guarded from all this poisonous fluorescence. A pure darkness, a perfect void. There, my shadow could no longer haunt me. No shapes could disturb me. No obstructions distress me. No mysterious forms could harass me, for all would be indistinguishably united in blackness.
I will get to this clearing. I'll go now, into the forest. The path is risky. Stumbling is inevitable but choreographed.
I will dream of grace when I finally sleep. I was once a dancer. I could balance and turn simultaneously; a tango of ultimate composure; a union. Poise will emerge from this perplexity, composure will birth from this chaos.
Always; what is, is not, and what is not, is.
"There is no place to seek the mind; it is like the footprints of the birds in the sky. Above, not a piece of tile to cover the head. Beneath, not an inch of earth to put one’s foot on. "
posted by StefanieSara at 2:01 AM
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