Her Part in the Mystery
Sweet little plunks into consciousness, then a whisp of forgetfulness and I am sailing the ripples of thought creating itself.
I am full now. Filled by life, filled by hope again, and by the creations in my womb that reach for the dawn every morning. I am silently witnessing the difference between the free and the wild, I am both and never alone in my aloneness.
I have found her; she is holding me while I sleep. I have found the soft silence that invites me into the next day promising nothing and telling me that is enough, I smile and raise my hands to the sky.
This is why I forget to understand the small things anymore, they all come together and find themselves a part of something constantly moving. I can never stop long enough to know if I am there, so I continue to dance in search of the stillness inside.
The Sufi music electrified my limbs and my smile grew to the heavens. I could only throw my arms to the sky and release the question why? It no longer matters in the beauty of this madness.
I am free now. Prepared for the rest of my life. Exercising the optimism that comes into my heart in the evening. I shake and smile and look up for a long while. The moon acknowledges me with her soft silent nod, and I am alive in the middle of worlds.
The pieces of life that have led me here no longer need to make sense, I find the whole a more gratifying albeit more painful realization of my existence. This does not matter anymore, so I continue to dance and release the strange things that wish to haunt me. They are only visitors that I have hosted for far too long. I have watched them pack their bags and walk out the front, side, and back doors. I have cleaned their rooms and prepared the beds for a new guest.
The dark night takes away the lost wails that used to haunt me, I am quiet and calm in the deep honor of blue forgotten by those who sleep. I am awake, even in my sleep. Tidal waves crash over my head and I stand on the cliff alone as it passes, wind throws me to the edge and I hold on with one hand until it passes, only then do I lift myself up back to my feet to watch the sunrise in her glorious symphony of desert silence. Oh, the colors!
The music makes me dance and I return my limbs to the grace of her inspiration every day, finding only a break between thoughts of peace and love, the small tortured thoughts get smaller in the light of this dance, a dance that stomps on ignorance and raises her head to the sky pulling the earth up with her toes.
Giving over to the direction of joy has become a pleasurable and painful drive along the patchwork of grass I can find in these cemented villages scattering the earth. She is bandaged everywhere, bruised underneath, trying to breathe while we suck up her life through our own selfish lungs. I can’t breathe when I know she is under soot and heel like this.
I can hear her in my feet when they move under the sun. I can hear her in my sleep when I wake up to the one. I will take my quiet desert of a heart into the river again and feel the cool on sand that takes away the heat of pain in this body.
The small changes that creep across the inside of my life are beginning to crack me open. Bright love circles around my earth round body.
Like Earth, our bodies, from seas of stars, rest in the grace of a galaxy, as we lay on her green grass ground and search ourselves to the core, she too lies on the comforting black quiet cloth of void and contemplates her part in the mystery.
artwork by Michael Costuros