Searching


The darkness depths of soul

Impossible to know until reached, boundaries are broken and breached.

Walls and intentions crumble, an empty stomach grumbles, the mind state stumbles grasping blindly, hungrily, urgently into the shadowy abyss.

Where has the light gone? Seeking, searching frantically, to feel completely.

Before there was static, visibility nil and foggy, desperately unclear.

Jumping off a bridge just to stare at fear, or anything else nearly as real.

Stagnation is worse, apathy worse yet; not to care—not to heal or set.

Walk into a fire, kindled on one’s own,

strike the spark, destructive inferno, reaping all you’ve sown.

Never tamp the flame til the the tower burns to ground.

Demanding the enemy’s flesh by the pound.

Everything is mandala. Impermanent today.

Nothing is forever, this will all fade away.

Light that match, don’t look back,

Let go.

You cannot stay.

Perfection or terror, move your feet and bow.

A moment passes, and no one asks, where to now?

Leaving some bereft, left in idleness, wondering why and how.

This way, that way, never the same path twice for two.

Intimacy is fleeting; not treated as a vice by few.

Trials and failures, essential though, creates a crisis for the soul.

Best it be at times, to remain still?

Watch the world turn from a window sill. Paralyzed by all that seems real.

Which way to go, eternal questions;

Zig or zag, numb impressions.

Sideways, a ride is distraction. satisfying yens without traction, going nowhere

familiar territory,

remniscent of horror stories written by the ghost of yesterday.

Crossroads of past and future, ripping open sutures, criss crossing cultures, feeding souls to vultures, creating, destroying pictures of what once was and could be again.

Lost at sea, drifting without course

alone is the dialogue; internally immersed.

Eternally left to wonder if blessed or cursed.

One flare left to seek help as hope starts to expire.

Last chance for rescue. Ready, aim, fire.

Like a flash of brilliant promise, when landing seems so close.

Truth has been sought everywhere, high and low the most.

In the dense fabric of the night and stark intensity of day

the seeking soul

can still not say if it’s found it’s way.

 

 

 

 

 

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About Janis Alanis

Thinker, BS detector, champion of Reason. Unafraid. Ticked off, and riled up. View all posts by Janis Alanis

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