A concerned passion, becomes fervor, then rage.
He tries, unsuccessfully, to cover his wounds.
His heart dwells in loneliness known only to him
And he feigns a smile which has become habit.
Words and actions are not habitual, though
They speak from a soulful place, intended and meant.
Generous, compassionate, warm, and empathic,
His heart heals others more easily than it receives.
He deserves forgiveness, which can only come from within.
I pray that he can give and receive this, and be open to love again.
Intuitive truth is the knowing of something that is not visible or provable in a scientific, factual way. This blog address those truths, which are revealed to us through a bodily knowing and captured through art; music; dance; and lyrical, descriptive writing. Reality is metaphorical: Every thing in the world points to something else, a truth contained within it that cannot be separated from the seer/ seeker. I hope you enjoy the blog and post your own glimpses of truth here and/or elsewhere.
Tuesday, November 27, 2007
The Puppeteer
With Self planted firmly on the ground
His gorgeous body speaks a confidence
that needs no words or gestures.
From across the room he enters me
Igniting and Consuming at once
The pulse of my aliveness
And I fear I will die without him.
I am a puppet now,
Too willing to be pulled by the invisible strings
And by the power he wields while sleeping.
Robbed of my groundedness
And penetrated by a force I cannot withstand
I lose myself, my confidence, my power
And fear my pulse is the next to go.
His gorgeous body speaks a confidence
that needs no words or gestures.
From across the room he enters me
Igniting and Consuming at once
The pulse of my aliveness
And I fear I will die without him.
I am a puppet now,
Too willing to be pulled by the invisible strings
And by the power he wields while sleeping.
Robbed of my groundedness
And penetrated by a force I cannot withstand
I lose myself, my confidence, my power
And fear my pulse is the next to go.