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'Remind me'

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  • 'Remind me'

    Remind me

    Those reminders of life, they're able to bring us back, show us Living proof of our nature.
    Life. To be capable of dropping from the height of a waterfall and not be less after there's nothing left. To rise over mountains, and cloud a few seconds.
    Awash, somehow made to plant an upside down world dropping at my fingertips.
    Stem of my last chance, O to build in progression, this symphony. Second guessing melody.
    The place of forests, and the antlers rising from beneath the trees; the place of streamlets, and eddies from the currents of the water in the sand.
    A slow erosion of forces so visceral, intangible. The accretion of sublimity, heart's syncopated love singing: bestowal, avowal, renewal, retrieval.
    A constant drinking of this water made from wine.
    The movement of the Heaven's in one eye, the bastion of a castle wall lit only by a candle.
    I watch the shadows push the sun from the sky, as the red drains from the horizon.
    A sublimation of constancy, in which the gears of mental machinery grip towers gripped by clouds. Where the glass-windowed faces turn to concatenated geometries, and the crystal streams through the rooms sort of splash with a ringing wetness.
    And the wallpaper turns into the curtains, and the carpet beneath the rug is lighter, less tread. The windows unfold outwards, and by a knob they can fold right back in if you twist it with enough strength.
    Up the stairs, the ceiling glows with stars, and glass figures are suspended in a sort of fantasial silence... The moveless scene is fulgent with something like a forbidden sanctity, a haunting of white wings that shall never move.
    It makes me wonder, and I can go further, listening.
    O voices, o tempted ones, o wordless, impugned; downfallen, fated, short angelic tryst.
    Battle the elements, brave the broken moments, settle for nothing less than those footless footsteps.
    Burn the map.
    And looking back, I am reminded of my dread, and where I have never dared to go. Pieces of the world have caught in me, and are moving in beauty, in love, as I sing these last bits of light from the sky.
    Looking back, I use my voice to hold on ... and on and on. All this time, my words have meant so much, like roots don't reach for light unless they need it.
    So I listen. I follow. Masked with the caves, clothed by the shores, shadowed by clouds in my ocean-eyes, made of rocks lost in paradise.
    I move in such circles, forever.
    The world of going somewhere.
    I begin to notice there's nothing left to go wrong, and I can imagine the clock taken apart, gear by gear, as it goes silent again.
    I also notice this radiostatic field spread like a canopy ... over my eyes, the leaves growing beyond touch.
    I have fought Nature, and her children don't know how strong she is...
    I have brought her up through myself, to see pound for pound my nothingness. To bear witness to her sands swallowing any temptation, and the cruel jewel of the eye within that storm.
    I have watched unfurl the rotations, and fallen in sync, breathing a pattern from the motionless center.
    There is nothing out there, it says, I am in here.
    And I can't go back to a time or a place imagining I'll finally belong.
    I can't expect the sun to beat the moon, or the tooth to somehow unchew.
    I merely expect the darkness, living, a perfect truth, the living breath of a fabric beyond. And the twinkling eyes which meet mine, expecting love.
    I can only give back, and die full of fire, burning flames of long ago... I can only turn back into the pyre with my heart and the crucible of this sentence.
    And live. And love.
    Something other than what I knew. And live, and live some more.
    Last edited by amenOra; 05-31-2019, 08:08 AM.

  • #2
    Beautiful ,it felt like reading a fully fledged novel , each verse an entire page .


    • amenOra
      amenOra commented
      Editing a comment
      thanks for taking an interest, glad you enjoyed!