Even as the Sun seemed to melt into the sea, the sirens of humanities’ moans, the glossary of deeds broken from their throne, I knew none of this was much longer to closet my emotions from their home.  Day unto day, I felt myself slipping away.  The promises misspent, the nobility never meant, the height of awakening still lay yet just beyond the movement of my eyes…ever present, dissecting, directing, cool and unwilling this Life unmade for me was the distance from where I stood and where the sea met with cooling refreshment the goodness of a day, twisting and turning, at some points the sound of the slavish burned my skin, only to heal and die again.

 Yet this time, this passing, this Eternal thread lifted and held my youth beyond the torment of any day’s welcome phrase.  Still garmented in shreds of stains and  nameless names,  I knew I would look again.  Ever curious and calling, I felt my Self driven from the stacks of those waiting also to be, to have their chance, their promising dance, and to resonate at last, among the named and nameless who had already had their turn, stretched between wooden frames upon whose canvas (however bent) turned and coiled and pulled once more, hoping from some Lottery, LIFE would begin again; and there would be no callous tongued rogue whose passion lay only in spinning lies of the patched and hatched worn out contrived  lives of liberty and trust and love, even a Hoped for  Forgiveness from the up above. 

 I turned the cooling box high and let my lost and losing Spirit come to rest, however that might be best.  The beginning of an end always felt just before – like the fleeting butterflies all atwitter in a stomach whether summer or winter, boiling oceans or hard, cracked and broken clayed soil became easily the bleary scoped wishes of the hands wet with soap and suds and dishes plenty.  The erosion of such common calls made me want to be young and in favor of the One.   I was and am an empty vessel, emptied out along some lonely way, a practice I had come to court for nothing more than what it may.

 Renderings I had come to introduce to the Light, now had the plush and jaded coy wrapped around some unhealed pattern in me.  Perhaps, as I have come to…perhaps Life and Living was just that and how much more can we make an attack for huddling humans, still scraping the sides of the bark that had just a moment ago been the meal we grew to yearn for instantly as conscious we became.  (damn hard to sleep when the stomach scratched and tore at the emptiness went on – if only able were we to swallow a seed of corn, and somehow seen to it that it lacked for nothing as time grew short and a green snap of a thing sprung from deep inside and we began to make pictures in our head of how long it had been since we had been fed.  How long?  I wondered.  How unkind was Nature to her own, even with brilliant soldiers of Sun Flowers grown, in allegiance raised their open faces, to turn to the sky blue, with wonder not quite dead, we held this hope deferred in disappointment, in desire and stubborn trust.   We are the Hope’s past; her expectant plenty in a pool of Kindness cast in Future’s deployed many.

 Should we deplete our own precious stores designated to know more so that we may not just hinder the way so callously thrust upon all of us, the children we birthed, to leave behind more agony with no sightings hastily torn from the page marked ONE?   For then all would be undone, the pain and struck through lineage divined some.   Move to enjoyment, contentment, an inexperienced Happiness, a bumble bee too busily feasting to care that you have lost your sight for a moment and were napping.  That is indeed a further land than we can stand; we mortals are the most fragile of all Nature’s tuning.  The ceiling of our dreaming detailed in gold, the throb of romantic love, sweet words on a tune were strung and in one another’s eyes there was nothing left for the wise.  Sailing, climbing, skiing, diving (water or air or cave), this Good Earth will never reveal her secrets to those whose interest is not interested in her Heart, her storehouses of Love.

 Come, rest awhile with me.  Lean your body strong against the weeping willow tree, on the banks of a pond, secretive and full with spells of longing, waiting for truth that aches with beads of sweat upon your face.  Deep within the mystical you, there’s a river of riches only you can know or understand – they are as nothing to any other man.  You are the caretaker of the treasures that no man can measure.   The foolish will find games to play, wishes to unfold, all purposeful to the artist in you.   Yet, you will not simply cast away the rock upon the unexpected Bay; you have withstood the trails of humankind, found survival through a path of Fire – and yearned to fulfill the Desired.  As castaway, others would point to you and laugh at your folly; yet you convene the order of the disorderly doctrine to which the Universes heed what others have been unable to discern. Descending deserts, that only you and your sorely divined wisdom explore and expand a Truth far removed from us Humans.

 If you would set your foot to the imprint of this rapidly abandoned, vacant (and meaningful), deceptively eager inheritance, you will lock your Soul to the depths of an exiled soldier who wanted nothing so much as to love and be loved, to lift up the fallen, give attention to the disinherited, fill the winds with music attuned to the precisely appreciated and understood groove that dwells in the misunderstood Hearts of the broken spirited, excessively growing desperate and aloof. 

 Take into yourself that which is sublime, evolving, enlarging compassionate and restorative Spirit of the Divine that lives through you.  Let your Self become an opening for the Good, the Dedicated to Justice and become that which you have absolved to be your Destiny, and ever and always, tenderly feel the movement of your Song.

 

~rumorsofme~

 

(NOTE:   And, remember, when you came into this world that the cup was broken then broken; therefore why the somber, disconsolate and disconnected?    WE are here for one another.

And there is as much to sing and laugh and dance for and with; therefore, let you simply BE.)