I am walking the dark road alone. This is a poem, is a prayer, is a seed, is a path made of moonlight. I wait and watch patiently for a sign; a way to know that I am free. I write this in the hopes that you will read it and find the fire that lies banked within your heart. That you will find your passion, find your hope again, and soar. Everything depends upon this; it is no more and no less than your one and holy purpose on this earth; to find the thing that makes you burn and leap into it, dance with it, sear the pain from your soul and leave there only something sanctified.
I will show you a scar where there was no scar...see the raw bloody lips of a wound, slashed with a cold knife. There it is, dripping all over the floor. Crimson flowers blooming. I will make it shine, I will make it sing...and when I'm done, you will never be sure of exactly what it was you saw... You will only know that it was dark and beautiful.
There is a castle in the air, but none may reach it except in dreams. Whirlwind, spin-drift, and lullaby your way there, floating on a cloud. Tell the mermaids and my angels I am waiting. Tell them I am coming home.
Tuesday, February 12, 2008