Alone - something that we never are,
but so often "alone" feels true.
God says, "I will never leave you or forsake you," therefore, in reality I am NEVER alone. But ...
But...
We all have our own answers to what comes after that word.
Sometimes when I feel as though I am trapped, stuck, can't get out...that I am alone.
I want to adventure,
I want to be with people who want to be with me,
I want to see what is out there.
But...
Again, I am stopped. I have an exception. I have a pinnacle turning point that is specific to me.
Forgery, formed of flesh and filled with my being.
Yet I am floating in a quasi-plane of knowing.
Dipped, spiraled, tumbled.
Until I land in the cell, door slammed, key turned.
Locked away--my penalty for surviving.
Existing in the midst like a mirage,
Any moment, the pendulum swings.
Parallel worlds, simultaneously misunderstood.
Strong, yet fragile.
Brave, yet broken.
Passioned, yet deflated.
How do so many paradoxes exist as one?
Great thinkers, worldly wonders,
Burn bright with intensity until the fuse,
The thread snuffs out the matter.
Too brilliant, too illuminous to keep a steady flame.
Gone before finished, blazing star until diminished.
Frozen, locked, a marble statue never carved.
No artist cared to see what was inside,
To lovingly chisel away what was not,
To allow one to emerge,
To find a life within a mere block of stone.
Plain, void, raw in essence.
Either too much or too little - never just right.
Tired, slow meditation, hear each breathe.
Squashed, inflated, pierced to silence.
How long will this go on? How long will we wait?
Blind men lead, deaf men sing.
Before her time, in her prime, exhausted.
Why does it return? Why can't it stay away?
Captured by scorn, they never believed, kept waiting for the finale.
Will they be stood up, disappointed?
It doesn't really matter. Why does it matter?
I never really mattered to anyone but God and me.
Exit left stage, crawl back in fetal position in the dark cave.
Curtain closes.
It is all the rave. Applause, what a show! Magnificence.
Fiction reflects reality --where the line crosses none can know.
but so often "alone" feels true.
God says, "I will never leave you or forsake you," therefore, in reality I am NEVER alone. But ...
But...
We all have our own answers to what comes after that word.
Sometimes when I feel as though I am trapped, stuck, can't get out...that I am alone.
I want to adventure,
I want to be with people who want to be with me,
I want to see what is out there.
But...
Again, I am stopped. I have an exception. I have a pinnacle turning point that is specific to me.
Forgery, formed of flesh and filled with my being.
Yet I am floating in a quasi-plane of knowing.
Dipped, spiraled, tumbled.
Until I land in the cell, door slammed, key turned.
Locked away--my penalty for surviving.
Existing in the midst like a mirage,
Any moment, the pendulum swings.
Parallel worlds, simultaneously misunderstood.
Strong, yet fragile.
Brave, yet broken.
Passioned, yet deflated.
How do so many paradoxes exist as one?
Great thinkers, worldly wonders,
Burn bright with intensity until the fuse,
The thread snuffs out the matter.
Too brilliant, too illuminous to keep a steady flame.
Gone before finished, blazing star until diminished.
Frozen, locked, a marble statue never carved.
No artist cared to see what was inside,
To lovingly chisel away what was not,
To allow one to emerge,
To find a life within a mere block of stone.
Plain, void, raw in essence.
Either too much or too little - never just right.
Tired, slow meditation, hear each breathe.
Squashed, inflated, pierced to silence.
How long will this go on? How long will we wait?
Blind men lead, deaf men sing.
Before her time, in her prime, exhausted.
Why does it return? Why can't it stay away?
Captured by scorn, they never believed, kept waiting for the finale.
Will they be stood up, disappointed?
It doesn't really matter. Why does it matter?
I never really mattered to anyone but God and me.
Exit left stage, crawl back in fetal position in the dark cave.
Curtain closes.
It is all the rave. Applause, what a show! Magnificence.
Fiction reflects reality --where the line crosses none can know.
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