The Invisible Ones
I’ve been told I think in feelings. I don’t really agree. I know my mind is continuously turning and rumbling and I must only open a door for the work to come out overflowing.
It is this socialized specialized form I do not embrace without time and effort and I shall work with it to transmit in settings and minds but I reach to hearts and speak to the soul. I feel their yearnings, I sense their outreached hands. I witness the glistening tears of dying lonely souls and hearts, the innermost self starving as a shadow, confined in a box society has shaped, convinced no one will ever communicate, the door will never open.
When they get the audacity to wander out in the energized cold they are struck by the bulkus figures of created harsh walls suppressed into a corner by big eyes.
Convinced this is no world for a soul. Frightened by the far off jiffy creatures who have embraced deeper roots or far off clouds.
They have been labeled as mad and deranged.
They do not understand.
You go back to your retreat.
A puppet orchestrating your being.
A bunch of idiots wobbling around bending over flowers speaking of compounds. What if the soul of beauty and fragrance of love?
Love cannot be cheated by walls, the passion ignites the whole being. your cool room becomes a red lit burning abode you awaken in excitement as a warm beautiful rising sun calls you to a new promising day.
Suddenly two walls have made one and the doors open to each other the warmth uniting.
The doors might open or you simply press yourself to the heat emanating on the walls. Touching the other with your heart.
You fling open the door and can never leave the tight embrace. But your walls have not kept moving. Two is more difficult to articulate the world than one and you continuously collide. The embrace leaves you without hold to brace and you roll around getting bruised in each others arms and you might get wacked apart and attack the heart or your walls get carried away and you fall out together in the dark and get trampled and squished. Maybe you’ll make a fort.
But what happens also a lot is in getting bounced and jumped you get thrown out from a high height and might even be missing a limb and bleeding still ardently red, turning gradually purple and grey as you lose warmth and you might fade into the ground as the footsteps of the walled ones or you might have enough envergure falling out to run run quick to another hide out and forever be in angsty fear of being found out.
So how do we not die? That little black almost white fading shadowy self we forget and let be invisible in us.
First let us sit. Grab a hand oh walled one like a dance and step forward ; take a slowing stance; let go of angst and rush and gush and fuss and hiss and just no just sit. Still. and look. and when the ruckus is still and the dumbed wall ones eyes are on each other. The little invisible one might wonder
In silence of hast a little foot might be heard. A knock. What’s up with the walls? You might all sit and enjoy the calm or fuss around in alarm. Windows of the walled eyes not revealing anything but empty light.
Either climb out to see in awe or the tension release pop open a door.
Cracking noises awakening in beginning wonder and skid just what is this newness and we may all come out and fall on our knees and walk towards one another in overflowing relief of prisoner’s release. BE TOGETHER WHAT JOY. I SEE YOU. I FEEL YOU. I’M NOT ALONE YOU ARE HERE ON MY CHEST I HAVE SUBSTANCE I AM HERE. REJOICE.
Till that day those who know sit still and grow the blue glowing hue of peace and calm, let it meld the colors of passion and create sweet pink and affectionate purple, yellow excitement and joyful green and all the colors of emotion as your decorated home sits in peace or travels in steady. The effleuves of its fragrance and show of its colored lights casting sparkles through open windows and blessing hungry hearts.
Be at peace, act in grace,
go in love and
grow in light.
Thank you my brothers and sisters for letting me reach to my loving father.
it reaches to me
& I bless it all.
Besides flies and itchy leaves.