Tuesday, August 21, 2012

Passion

"My friend is a stranger, someone I do not know.
A stranger far, far away
For his sake my heart is full of disquiet
Because he is not with me…
Who are you who so fill my heart with your absence?"

By the power of serendipity I found this poem, and it touched me to the depths of my heart, resonating in the very strings of yearning that have throbbed, hummed, inspired, and moved me for years and years. Today of all days, to be able to discover such lines, after the tumult of emotions that have crashed on the shores like a battleground, is serenity.


A stranger far, far away

And yet so close. Almost as if, in a space unfilled, the vacancy was one of the eye alone, and not of the heart, at times it were as if someone, somehow was there at my side, and a faint lingering of scent would catch me unaware and I would freeze, assimilating and seeking out the answer to why I knew this unknown scent, why I knew the familiar comfort of this unfamiliar presence.


Who are you who so fill my heart with your absence?

Haunted by years of unspoken question, I begin to understand the answer. Incredible how so powerful an absence can fill the void of absence itself and instill a sense of closeness. A closeness to what, I've always wondered. Somehow in the tiny folds of time that interspersed every moment, I found recollections of a memory that had yet still to happen. How was this possible, my mind questioned my heart.

Tuesday, August 07, 2012

Some Walks You Have To Take Alone

Part of me has died today. There is that panic as I search and search my mind anxiously seeking the answer, and that panic of not being able to answer, because there are no words. I don't know, I don't know. All I know is the pain. Inability to explain because I am drowning and I can't open my mouth to tell you lest the water floods through and I'm struggling to hold my head up and all I need is a hand but you keep your feet dry. I open my mouth, and I am sinking. The water drains away, and I blink my eyes to hold them back. The creaking of the door as it sways in the gusts of emotion, and hoping that that someone will fix it and let the light in. Instead, it slams shut, and in the darkness there is no hope for light. As much as I pull and pull, it's stuck. In the depths of black, I hear the soft sound of water dropping. It's filling up again and flooding. Up to my knees, up to my chin, and I am suffocating. I hear a sound at the door, and I try to call for help, and it leaves me. I swallow the hurt, and I choke. I diminish in the darkness. In the darkness there is no left and no right and no wrong. Who can tell when in the darkness I am all alone. Everything hurts, but I am alive. But part of me has died today. Part of me has died.