I wish I didn’t envy Her so much,
But I do.
She floats when She walks,
She sings when She talks,
Every heart beats with joy at her Smile.
She is loved by many and hated by none:
She is beauty in the n’th degree.
She outshines even the brightest sun-
She steals all my light from me.
She is a blue jay flying in the summer sun
While I am only a crow.
She sings of fragrant, balmy nights to come
And enjoy those reveries that I will never know.
There is not enough
Magic in the language of
Humans to express the
Freedom of a mind.
There is no
Liberation comparable to that of
Being one with not only yourself, but with
Everything.
All life exists as a
Piece of a jigsaw puzzle-
Individuals making a beautiful
Picture, impossibly fitting
Together like the fibers of a fine piece of
Silk.
What’s wrong with being an edge piece?
Nothing.
What’s wrong with being a middle piece?
Nothing.
Every other piece would mean
Nothing if one was missing: just an
Unintelligible gathering of pieces.
When the puzzle is
Finished, you realize not a single piece is
Jumbled. Every one had a
Place.
No place is there on Earth
Where the contrast of Sun and Shadow is greater
Than in the forests.
The purple twilight persists through the day
Like the will to live in a human mind.
Then from the darkness
The blinding light of sun breaks in
Like the memory of you,
Reminding me of a time when I was happy-
A time when the sun didn’t burn.
But here in the endless night of the forest,
It only hurts
And beckons my eyes to close.
So sudden is this onslaught of the past
That even in my running to the shadows
The oppressive light stays with me
As a ghost behind my eyes.
I devour
The sun in greedy gulps,
Stealing
For myself the life-giving warmth.
I hoard
The golden light of day in my petals,
Becoming
That which all need to survive.
I transform
Before your very eyes:
God
When once I was only a seed.
I destroy
All other life around me,
Convincing
Those blind that I am holy.
Selfish beauty,
I take all I am given,
Returning
Nothing more than grief.
I lay down my head,
Close my eyes,
And beckon,
“Sleep.”
There is a gentle dragging
As gravity urges me down
To the center of the earth.
The ground moves down with me,
An elevator to the unimaginable depths
Of this mirage of a planet.
I will know what labcoats know
And I will prove them wrong.
Only those in Hell can know
What Hell is and what it’s like.
I will know the secrets of the earth.
Drift slowly, child,
Feel the layers of reality peel away
As you descend further through yourself.
Shed your skin, slithering soul loose to explore.
Rest your robot bones, ethereal heart.
The time is now.
Time to wake up, child,
And see the truth of your soul.
Dream, that you may see the world
Without limit.
There is an anchor tied to my heart
Weighing me down so I can hardly stand.
There is a heaviness, full and smothering,
Making a shipwreck of me.
It tugs me to the bottom of the endless sea that is myself.
All is cold, dark water
And creatures lurking where I can’t see.
But my lungs are full of air, still-
I haven’t been here long-
I take aim at the seafloor
And sing myself skyward.
Along the way, the anchor rope snaps,
Decayed from the dark, cold water.
My ascent is accelerates
By the sudden lightness of my heart.
I breach the surface, keep going.
Excuse me while I steal the sky.
Flying until I’m above the world.
My head lands in the clouds.
I think I’ll stay here.
Do not compare her to a summer’s day.
She is not humid, blinding, or muggy.
The air inside her is not stagnant,
But mobile,
Twisting and turning,
Dancing with trees,
Whispering of the storm and cold to come.
She is not soft like a flower in spring-
That is a different sort of fragile-
She is brittle like a browning leaf;
The smallest opposition, and she
Flies away.
She hangs on for far too long,
The drifts slowly downward,
And is forgotten, trodden on,
Decaying.
So do not compare her to a summer’s day,
But an autumn’s,
For she heralds a coming winter,
But is beautiful;
The last vestige
Of the world before.
