Woke up again today with a face wet from tears. Its been an uneventful slow release I suppose - like a swimming pool in its last season, finally disassembled, the water long syphoned but some spills still.
The dream had me in yet a different house with a different version of you. The mask was a slight of face, as disguises go, but in the frivolity of the party - the voice and the eyes remained; giving you away.
I was pleading for love from you. The proverbial party had ended and the lights had come on. Shadows bled back in and the results were garish. Why did it have to end? I had carried versions of you in my belly, infinitely making you more in the fabric of eternity - the greatest gift I could bestow upon one. I used to look at you sideways teeming with love and desire - a sultry eddy during the long August heat. It had gone as quickly as it had come - a flash flood that left me barren, cracked and slacked in the sun.
I was begging.
The last episode like this was gauzy and light, an original exoneration of faith and forgiveness. This one is heavy, like watching the dirt being shoveled over the casket. But it's just as important, so that would be the faith I suppose, the process of letting this all go.
Time doesn't mend, not really. Time sorts, organizes, archives. And I've come to realize we never keep time, no, it is time that keeps us - then we are up for soul parole.
Our experience was one. Our experiences were so personal that we became strangers. Perhaps it visits you? Somewhere in me I like to think you, too, wake up wet faced, but I know the Truth. You push it aside to survive - I invite it in for tea. Our minds were never going to meet with that one.
And therein lies my one true love - my cursed blessing...Truth.
Ancient Epochs led me here. The journey an accelerated yet tiresome one with dark rest stops along its path. A Repetitive Redemptive, Renewing. This is not the human experience - take it down a notch - this is your experience. Connected yet Individualized so much so that you are a bird over the vast sea seeking land.
Truth seekers understand the carrion of flesh, the degeneration of the temporary ground. Truth is the fodder that brings us home to ourselves and the Void. We are the Star Warriors. Truth is our sword, our wound, our birth, our burial.
Ahh I see. Truth Tears. That's what they were - I knew I'd come upon the answer. Toxins out - Peace within. Your vessel has its intelligence. Trust its Truth. Sometimes there is no why, there is only acceptance.
Conquer by continuing.
Namaste
