Older

Jul 28

There was a man that was older than me, but there were more ideals in his hand. The compassion of youth darkens like a prey bird’s feathers as we age. The world closes in to a dark perimeter without our houses and any and all we do not know are on their own. When I was young, there was at least the chance that things got better instead of merely staking out for ourselves. When we age we settle for less than the open vistas and unending blue for a meaner season meant to give contentment. But then we age more and the door is thrown open again and we see outside, and it is daylight, there are birds singing and breeze in the air.

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Friend

Jul 25

I met a stranger that was a friend, treating the alien well in my land, I found that the visitor was divine and dispensed gifts. The box, when opened, contained a mirror and I beheld my reflection. When we meet others, we meet ourselves. What they show us are our reflections, we see a part of us that is new for having encountered it in them. Within ourselves are worlds and marvels, simple and elegant nonetheless for seeing them everyday like a fabulous sunset of gold and purpling lights. Walking the vivid world there are endless revelations in the divine strangers that we meet and the boons they grant are moments of knowing ourselves.

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End

Jul 21

I knew someone who ended himself, Christmas time, years ago. I wanted to tell him curtains rise and fall, that the set and dialogue changes. Whatever act they were in, it would have come to a close and then a new show could begin with a different story. When the tale takes a tragic turn, its conflict brings out what we have inside us, what we find is what was there all along. Nothing alone and void, there are meanings, even if it is just being. But it was his last playbill. Turning out the lights, locking the doors and closing down the theater. I walked by the abandoned marquee in what was now a bad part of town, saw old posters from sold-out performances long decades ago. There are other shows, things that come after a long run before the footlights. A stage on the other side of town perhaps, one thing is certain, that as things come to a close, something else opens up, and we find ourselves the player and audience at another show.

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Darkness

Jul 13

Darkness enshrouds everything in night. An expanse oceanic from which it is impossible to see the other side. Whether there is a cosmos or nothingness girding about. There is no way to plumb or fathom its circumference, and in this space things can only be guessed at. I’ve seen the darkness before, a long and many times, and came to know it was my friend. It’s a shadow, that we cast, and when we trace its lineaments back to ourselves, we see that it is indeed infinite as we feared, but now that fear becomes hope as we see that there is an infinitude of light that is also within us, and the two meet somewhere in the unknowable confluence of being.

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