Tuesday, December 1, 2009

Thanksgiving in the House of Cards

The world is beautiful. The world is terrible. It is every pain and every joy. It is all of our wickedness and all of our love. And if we look far enough out...far enough beyond...we find ourselves revealed in its worldly shapes. Looking out we look in. It's all in our heads after all.

Oft finding myself in the idle of the still hours between midnight and dawn, between the heavens and that firmament beneath, I know my own memories as only past dreams. Shades. Shadows. Whispers. And in them, swept away I am like a wrestless sojourner of the soul. A simple recollection is the very Odyssey of Homer. But the sirens that call me from there are only ghosts...untouchable things now.

We do not bring anything into this world. And we do not take anything from this world. And the reason for this is because the world is already complete...and remains so. We are the reflections of what is real. Quid es veritas...indeed. All of that grand display of our lives is shared within us. We have but to look upon one another and know we are the same. And it is that shared being beneath the skin, the order of the universe right in our very dna, that alone is the truth, and the beauty. We act by the force and by the will that is greater than we know. Some might say instinct, archetype. Others might say God.

We are the Myth.

I am Prometheus. I have stolen the fire of the old gods. And for my worldly passions I suffer each and every day chained by this lot I chose. But the fire is life. The fire is beauty. The splendid darkness itself cannot seal it away, cannot deny it.


Dear Everything.

It has been another amazing year. I wake up from one dream into another, even such dreams that break my heart. They are still beautiful....still life.

The Odyssean shades constantly haunt me. I see the faces of the beautiful beloveds of mine. They are as immortal to me as Beethoven could have imagined. My great loves never age...and never fade. That is a kind of delight I enjoy. I am thankful beyond words, beyond emotion for those stars in my heaven. They warm my heart when in longing I look up for them.

I have lost two more good friends this year. We wear black when we celebrate their lives because the night has come for them and we remember then that the night comes for us all. So be thankful then!

Still. Shades of love or lost friends...I miss them.

"Will you mourn the whole world?" the angel asks. For everything passes. And we either mourn every passing thing...or praise and celebrate the newness in the wake of change.

Forgive me angel! I cannot help but lose hours to sorrow. The greatness of such beauty is too much to bear. That machinery I wear...it is not as infinite as the world I Am.

I want to hold onto the ghosts. I want to reach over to them. But one can lose ones way in the twilight.

Ever on...til sunrise.

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