Losing My Ability to Speak

Watching it go....in those blog posts, I'm watching my ability to communicate shiver and shake and strain under the pressure. And then it will break, that lifeline, that bridge from my inner world to the world of another. It will shatter and I will be left with a broken mirror, trying to catch my reflection in the pieces, to shine enough light on my inner workings to put them back together. The mirror, the echo, the moon shining light from the sun so we know she's still there...I would become lost behind a veil of mist and shadows, with poetry the only light sharp enough to break through the haze. Reflecting the sun. The prism's beam dividing into words tumbling straight from the archetypal heart of me...it was this, or nothing. It was this, or scripts long ago memorized and operating on autopilot. There would be nothing else for a long time...for a long time, nothing

leapt from inner tiger's forest
yes, burning
but unable to scale the 
slopes of the tragedy
the echoing misery
the mystery in chains
inside me bright and 
soft and full of 
life and we are 
singing out to 
you but you are

on the other side

on the other side...might as well have been on the moon, the sun's light silent and formidable barriers of stone resurrected and reflecting the guessing games left on the threshold of my mind. I thought in time, the barriers would lesson. I thought with patience, I could wait out this strange happenstance, and we could find our way back together. I could explain everything with such perfect eloquence that all of the bitter mystery would make perfect sense. You would see, you would see through my eyes, you would see me, because that is what happens when the bridge comes back and you can cross it, you can see each other and everything is understood and nothing matters so much as your love which was strong all this time, nothing was lost because this love is eternal, it is unending, it is the fire at the end of time that just keeps burning, and everybody knows this and so no one gives up the fight to remember and we all come back together and

read the stories of the falling times and

cry and scream and rip up the pages of the soft sad in between

and then we laugh because we made it and of course we would never have let it fade this bond that is carrying our futures in its shivering, wind-borne light 

Wind-borne, crafting this resonance for the Listening, we are weaving the spells of awakening, the moon-tide shaking the dust off our symphony blades

Hey, hey

I knew you then

You knew me too

Reach out and you 

Will find the strange

Epiphanies of

Change,

Causality of the

Pre-ordained

That floats the breeze

Come follow me

The healing of the 

World begins like this,

Come

Down into the depths of our reunion