3 posts tagged “journal”

When I first saw you, I knew one or two years from now, you would be a faint memory in my thoughts haunting me as I look at a cafe's window at traffic and tall buildings leaping toward the skyline.

With hope, you have flown like a bird to its nest, and I sit alone again knowing that I have helped you on your mission as far as I can lead you.

But, last year and the year before, you were like a scarecrow in the wind without a foundation to hold you straight, and I leapt into the tornado fields and rain and nearly coughed up blood from pneumonia to keep the straw from falling out of your lungs and body.

Maybe I jumped in too hard, and if I remained aloof to your presence and never entered your crazy, chaotic realm, you would be the same as you are today.  I have no idea.  But, I saw a person in the deepest and darkest places, the holes that I used to go and still do, and knew that if I allowed you to fall in the holes I typically crawl in that you may not find any substance left to disappear the deadness left to grow and kill your soul.

And, so you stood on my shoulders, and I have bruises and back pain to prove it.  You stood high in the sky while my feet sunk deeply into the mud.

And now?  Now, you seem to be okay.  One minute you were on my shoulders crazy and out of place, and then poof, you stopped biting your nails and learned to be yourself again.  How did it happen so quickly?

Now, I am left in the window looking out to the hospital across the street.  I'll stay here a few more minutes in finish the decaffeinated coffee and allow your ghost to remain.  And somehow, I plan to return to my former activities and realize that sometimes friendship is not meant to last forever and a day.

The best friend of all is the one who jumps into a situation knowing he or she might die along the way, and when the other has reached the pinnacle of her dreams and satisfaction, I can finally, finally walk away.

I sound sad today about it all, and maybe I am.  But, that is okay, because deep down...deep within the spirit of my being, I helped you crawl through the rabbit hole of your shadowy path and see your light again.

I believe I have helped, but now, I must live like the dark soul I have always been and remain fresh in my cave where only the lightning bugs will mix with the bats as they play a little game of "Tag, you're it!."

I am lost today, but I don't plan to stay lost for more than a day, Spring has sprung, and I have my own lungs to fill with breath before the lightning fades.

Blood symbolizes the death of Christ.  Blood symbolizes a fallen soldier.  Blood symbolizes the crown of martyrs.  It is all in the blood.  But...

There is a greater blood that is shed for all of us.  A blood that is not curled around the tribal warfare of kings, queens, and other leaders.  There are not nail scars or piercing skins or graffitti on Palenstinian walls marking the inscription of a fallen child gunned down by the Israel police when rocks were thrown from the Palestinian side.

There is so much bloodshed, yes, but there is nothing but the blood of...human compassion flowing through the veins of our spirit.  Pumping first from heart to artery to vein and back again.  True circulation.  And, though we are sometimes disconnected from each other and fall apart by conflict, including families or larger country issues, hand in hand, we warm ourselves.  Hand in hand, we talk about the future, until we let go and isolate ourselves into the very corners of pain and into the very separation of understanding our other self.

We are human and divine, and the divine flows through us from a distance like a shooting star.  How do we catch the heat of that star and spread across our bodies like a mosaic and allow our blood to flow within us next to a fire, next to our kinship, next to our mothers, and fathers, and clans, and tribes, and fight no more.  And live for peace without the blood of Jesus, Muhammad, and others spreading fires and terror across this perfect land.

There is nothing but the blood...within us.  We can choose to allow the motion of it to spread forth goodness to others.  Or, we can fall into a pattern of fire that burns inside us.  We have choices to make!  We as a nation have that choice as well no matter how much evil thrives beyond our control.

The terror always lies within ourselves.  Deep within the core.  It is human nature, and if we let it out, let it out through writing and exploration as I am doing now, as you should, too!

There nothing but the beautiful blood of a red moon rising in the distant sky, when sun and moon combine for perfect light upon our imperfect, conditional, and animalistic selves.

--Pax!

Moon

i meet a star and believe i can pull her in to touch my grace.

but beauty like that belongs at a distance.

during the night, when our rays hide beneath the darknening sky and a city hue of lights, we cross our shadowed lights in a ripple of a watererfall.

does beauty like that belong at a distance?

we touch. we flame. we dance like a comet of everlasting streams.

is our intimate beauty merely a reflection of our distance?

the earth returns to light, and we, two stars, twinkle with our children and mark our parent domain with hydrogen streams.

there is perfect beauty in this painting of short distances.

but when night climbs and waterfalls release from a small stream hidden in the mountains, we dance again like two clumsy lovers believing our reflection within a river's glances will gleam longer than our distance and speed of light.

--moon