Portrait of Self - 03.11.2007

Today, of all peaceful days, I ponder the ironies in life and question the direction of the wind. Like a gathered storm outside my window, my heart is filled with rage as I find myself everywhere and nowhere simultaneously. And stuck in this vortex I can’t stop the rush of words from flowing from the vast vessel of thought. Eventually a rift will appear and a flood of light will enter into this empty room and liberate me from the atrocities that plague me. I suffer openly and silently peeling back the skin and exposing the veins, bleeding profusely upon the page.

A deafening roar approaches with caution as winter soon hibernates and my heart erupts again into an uncontrollable fever. Intently I listen for the whispers to reach me but the hardness has somehow numbed me. Functionality and discipline have left the building and I am faced with a relentless overpowering of myself. I fight to pray but the words have lost themselves in the depths of a despair that seems to be infinite.

There is one that has blown the dust off and ignited the wick of the candle. Now it’s up to me to simply supply the needed oxygen. So very precious are the relationships that form in this crazy beautiful life that we sometimes take advantage and take them for granted and I’m not about to destroy that which has brought me happiness. But somehow faith and trust in myself have somehow left me and I’m standing here naked in the crowd. I love to live and live to love but the boatman will soon seek anchor and I find myself without gold coin.

Where have my guide and guardian gone? Am I to be forsaken? I am losing grip but she keeps me anchored. I want to feel, to touch the light that burned in me so very long ago. Am I to wander in this desolation forever? I’m standing so very close, yet so very far away.