Darkness and then darkness.
Waves of
despair. Moaning. |
A stolen metaphor, slain parable. Death and |
details. |
|
A crushing of the spine. A splaying of the
senses.
We were transformed.
Is the caterpillar
informed of its becoming?
Does it enter its cocoon
fearing death, and watch
its painful blossoming
in slow motion,
never sensing
an end?
What if it imagined
its cocoon its deathbed?
Tried to figure out
How things had
led to this?
Imagined
it had done
something wrong?
What if I had
listened to my elders
hadn’t upset my parents |
had made
a single offering ?
It is a clouding of memory.
A slowing of the senses.
A distortion of sound.
A gathering of dust.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. What is happening?
A standstill. Too harsh of a reality
to comprehend, The weight of iron
chains.
The rot of flesh.
To drown in baptism.
The extinguishing of the soul.
To barter dreams for life
and then to live
not as you dreamt you would,
yet still to live.
An act of giving thanks.
a way
of seeing |
hoping |
believing |
a matter of
perception,
space
beyond |
a sense of maturity |
a bit of courage |
matter |
a sense of exploration |
an understanding |
a vivid comprehension
There is a layer of belief
a gut feeling, so much
that holds up to all questioning
more than sensation
I never doubt this
I feel it deeply
and sense
I can know it.
Embedded
within it is the belief
that we can know
that things are possible
through feeling
through listening
through sensing.
The relationship we develop
with our intuition
will in many ways
define us.
Do we doubt it?
Do we doubt ourselves
Can we trust them?
our gut instincts?
It is not |
It is simply |
that there is |
a knowing |
no research |
that there is |
no thought |
something |
no reasoning |
beyond it |
involved |
|
a cloud
of mystery
lifted
a sense that which
binds and blinds us
a fixed way
of seeing things
of believing |
of trusting |
more than what
others have said
or handed down
than what you feel
a clinging
to tradition |
a refusal to |
throw away
our crutches
an overcoming of fear
a breakthrough
a willingness
to exceed the norm, |
a determination |
|
|
in many ways |
a dance |
a way of placing |
a way of moving |
|
|
forward |
one foot
in front
backward and around
of another
a means
of coming |
spiraling |
further out
from the center,
full circle
deeper in
It is not |
|
a mystery |
it is a love affair |
a willingness
to surrender
a way of rooting
something out
following through
digging deeper
reading stones
overturning dirt
recognizing
symbols
pulling back
the veil
a kiss |
an orgasm |
a spasm of release |
an epiphany |
a flick
of a switch that
jolts an electric chair
to shock its detainee
and brings him back
to life. It is not a way
of dying There is no
death in this
although
centuries
of despair |
years of solitude |
|
|
mostly in communal |
|
|
gatherings where we |
A way of praying |
Yes. |
sang, danced, prayed. |
of giving thanks |
of connecting dots
much more than hope
an increased
sense of knowing
of learning
a willingness
to overcome |
to become |
an expanded
sense of being
all we have ever hoped
could not imagine |
life after death
after thought
after breath
it is a whisper
a piercing scream
deep in the night