POEM?: Secret Door

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POEM?: Secret Door

Postby seekinghga » Sat Jun 23, 2018 6:10 am

Secret Door
a.k.a. Les cliche
--------------------
In my search for who I am I listened to silence.
I listened and I listened and silence spake not.
Eternally blessed is the clarifying voice of silence!
Lo, off of the dark there came a tiny vessel of stillness atop the tumultuous waters of my untamed soul.
For a week unto weeks I strove and grappled in the water there to attain the aliment of surrender on that small boat, unto naught!
Unto naught would I ride!
Such agony it was to come so close so often, only to be driven to the shores of forgetfulness and body by a rampant wave of distraction, thought.
I consecrated a circle and an altar to the god, Perseverance.
In time I thought and divested of thought and sank in the way of equilibrium to learn the ways of stillness.
A harsh sunlight cascaded over the clouds upon the fulcrum of wisdom to illumine and consume the rays of ephemeral sensation.
In its light I was stricken and dissolved and devoured until all that remained was my remains, bleached and broken, I am no more is in them, that they just were.
Let me disperse completely!
Two young people playing on a hillside in a forest created a testament to joy and there they evoked a forgotten archetype who had left its mark on the life of all.
But I sought who I am through a nighttime of nothing, like the passing of a breeze on yon bed of lovely grass.
An army marched and razed the land.
The raucousness of its reach drowned in its din the lonely tune of a father bird mourning in the meadow, his bitter tears raining down on the earth like shards of crystal healing...
An army unstoppable marched, it marched through the ports and through the pillars, through the markets and the mazes, through the tunnels and through the walls it marched.
Its heavy beats afire like a siege upon the evanescing brow and breast of peace.
Towers of war did it build and break down; it flowed unto like the inmost desires of spoilt youth, unrequited.
Lost.
Only one can halt its passage.
Or rather, the halting of its passage is one.
In a cave open in wandering I discovered a glass of the clearest colored hue, its names were chosen by the arrow of mine eye.
Possessed it was of boundless focus but the iniquities of my ignorance brought its beauties not to bear.

I am my worst enemy.
I am the victim of my desire;
Ever thirsty,
Ever hungry it feeds and feeds and never fills up...

In my search for who I am I will listen to silence.
I will listen and I will listen, even that silence speaketh not.
Eternally blessed shall be the clarifying voice of silence...for a time...
"And they that read the book and debated thereon passed into the desolate land of Barren Words. And they that sealed up the book into their blood were the chosen of Adonai, and the Thought of Adonai was a Word and a Deed; and they abode in the Land that the far-off travellers call Naught."
- LXV 5:59
seekinghga
Stone of Precious Water
Stone of Precious Water
 
Posts: 366
Joined: Wed Mar 18, 2009 6:30 pm
Location: York, PA

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