They Looked Over From The Cliff, Hand In Hand, Into The Void. The Presence Of Each Other, The Burning
They looked over from the cliff, hand in hand, into the void. The presence of each other, the burning warmth of their hands and the intensity of their love was enough to null the feeling of loss, of loneliness and above all, the crushing hopelessness and suffocating fear. Here they were safe, they were determined and most importantly they were ready. And they were ready together. They did not possess the knowledge if their friendship would last more than one lifetime, but for now they would make it last forever, as long their flame burns and they draw their breaths, as long as their eyes glitter with determination. They will last. All was not alright, but it will be, and they'll be there together. They were enough.
"Watch a man flow with the river of love, watch him emerge and then watch him flourish."
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He said, with wise, young eyes, a single tear almost cascading down his cheek, "Ya ukhti, I cannot sleep. I had to bury my father, then my mother, then my sister." He swallowed hard, "Ya ukhti", his voice trembling, he continues, "Ya ukhti, my toys they bleed, I'm scared I'll have to bury them too."
Do you ever get that intense yearning to learn in the middle of the night? The universe, the stars, mythology, languages, art, history, culture, physics, psychology, philosophy and anything and everything you can get your hand on. It's as if knowledge becomes alive at night.
Cotton candy clouds
pink dreams
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"The Sparrow in my Head"
There is a little sparrow in my head that likes to cause a mess.
It distracts me with its shrill screeching
that bounces against and vibrates my skull.
It flaps its tiny wings and causes a flurry in my head, like a feral hurricane.
It drills against my brain and causes pulsing migraines
and sometimes it nips at my eyeballs.
There is a little sparrow in my head
Shackled and caged behind bars of steel.
It is bruised,broken and battered
And its wings are clipped.
To set it free somebody will have to crack open my skull.
"It's not fair", cries the sparrow.
"Oh but it is fair", I reply,
"Just like, a head for a head,
a tail for a tail,
an eye for an eye,
and your freedom for mine."
The little sparrow gives a sad chirp and droops its wee head.
"Do not despair, little bird", I consol,
"One day you'll be able to fly,
high above, higher than the sky.
For just like in the circle of life,
the day your life begins,
is the day mine ends.
So chin up and wait some more,
just a little more time."
There is a little sparrow in my head that weeps tears of patience.
There is nothing else it can do.
~Me
*Inspired by Bluebird by Charles Bukowski*
"When the world shuts down and the quiet shushes and the darkness cloaks, I do the opposite. My small rebellions."
~Me
Our ancestors speak through us.
~Me
My tranquil, little moon,
my sweet midnight,
Your saccharine nectar drips from the star dew sky,
And drapes me in a blanket of warmth and bittersweet acceptance.
Your words are silent like a tender droplet of water blooming on a cloth but the formidable, commanding waves in your head bow to no man.
~Me
Virginia Woolf〡Selected Prose; Mrs Dalloway
"My dear, I have become so familiar with the loss of loved ones that death now seems like family and my grave feels like home."
I don't feel so good today.
I feel a strange, ancient ache in my soul. An aged feel to my rigid bones that once held the weight of the earth and the sky. Now they wish to rest, to turn to dust. They have endured enough weathering. I feel nostalgic for a life I have never lived, for a life I wish I lived. I suppose I do understand this humane desire. The soul was never meant to stay on the earth. It was meant to rise. And here, now, it is bound to, shackled to this body and inadvertently, to this world,held taut by the unyielding chains of gravity. I yearn for the day I return home. Up there.
I don't feel so good today and that's fine.
~Me
