Time lapses.
I wane between dreams and waking state, the divide only a strand as thin as the silk of a spider's web.
A web that connects me to you and all the others whom I have buried into fragments of memory.
The shells we bear are different, but the eyes tell a familiar story.
A story being laid to rest. As I awake now to find only vacancy there.
Remember me... a soul wandering across a precipice of loss and despair. Sorrow turns to surrender.
The dividend to resurrecting... true passion is loving compassion.
All the years I pined for you to notice me, was really me noticing you. Now, at the height of being Alone, I have never felt more enveloped and consumed by this invisible grace.
Remnants of grasping within me still exist, but with no pulse given, the need quickly fades into the abyss.
I am holy. I am hole, and whole, and holy. Hold me. This red and tender heart.
In the hologram of dreams, I find pieces of myself returning, and a power once foreign quickly fills this well with light. The feeling of Presence is volcanic in its plight.
Love pours in through corridors I cannot see. All I know is, I am no longer lonely.
Where before when asked to let go, I did with battle and mourning. Now, I let the tears fall freely and surrender myself to the pain of recycling.
This face I adore, the heat of my beloveds. How many faces can you create, each as lovable as the next? Your children are beautiful because of this fragile quality, and impermanence brought by Time.
Beauty and sadness... Lo, the nuance of each are composed of identical melody.
They are lovers in a symphony. And wherever there is sadness, joy follows to cradle again.