Split

Ink bleeds from the pen as I strive to capture the truth covered in shadow. The whole of reality stowed behind a veil of human eyes. I live within this hidden reality, dancing in the cold night of summer. Behind my eyelids I peer into the deep chasms of my heart, where blood mixes with soul. What secrets will I find here?

Whispers here tell of mysteries locked in groans and pouring from the soul. These all seeing truths become the masterminds behind what has become my ensnarement, the labyrinth of my eternity. I am lost to myself. I hold a story that cannot be understood. The mind holds the day. Outside of the heart what key can unlock the mind? No key exists for unlocking the heart, held by such things the world has only felt. I am free inside of a prison. Who saw fit to design a prison in which our only freedom comes in what binds us to shadow?

Fear, fear, fear, the world I know, knowing out of fear. The soul screams and tries to tear itself from the moment of time. Time, my captor, the holder of truths undiscoverable and reasoning unreachable. What is and what has been becomes mixed in the swirl of existence.

The eyelid rises as a tear falls, cracking the mask and revealing the pure eyes behind. A strange smile of beauty seen for a moment unchanging. Truth lies somewhere hidden in this moment. My soul screams once more and splits itself from that shadow within, hiding me. I turn from that past as from the ephemeral fear itself. Knowing now, knowing out of truth, I capture the reality in each stroke of my pen. Every movement becomes my own movement, each with a purpose. I am standing beneath a light in a dark night. Here I can clearly see the secret, hidden from me. I am my secret.
Freedom from a prison becomes the proof that the prison cannot be my home. But I blink again. I look out to the dark unknowable forces in this moment and my intimate companion, fear, turns toward me and nods his head. Music floats over to me and settles on top of the troubled world offering a blanket of reality and a hope for meaning, each note a living color to fill a day with peace. I am left to try to understand the meaning of the time and place I am in.

Fifteen lines with fifteen sounds bend my mind.

Unspoken mysteries are whispering in the evening’s breeze.
What cannot be removed is taken from the heat’s deepest rooms.
Meddling spirits open and close doors out of time with the goal.
This road is traveled many times but no foot sets upon it.
Burning winter nights open the eyes of sleeping angels here.
Embracers of dark thoughts travel light on idle nights in pairs.
Darker hued truths are found after sunset with ink stained bruises.
Certainty is the companion of crazy peoples’ journeys.
The singer of songs has to live the lyrics before sleep comes.
Purity is filled with truth and drinking it sustains the free.
Happiness is outside of time but limited by the mind.
Walking closer to the mountain trail stirs peace into the soul.
Music takes us higher than the memories of tomorrow.
One wish would take me home where I can live and know my own self.
Falling short to rise again is the grace of a fire’s name.

Photo by Matthew Smith

Written in February of 2009