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| Subject: Empty Pockets | |
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Author: Wilopent (Awarded by Sasha) |
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Date Posted: 11:33:47 01/06/08 Sun  Empty Pockets (Voyage of a Bi-Polar Muse) And she told me how she touched the sky how the spiral widened as she flew towards the sun and how all at once she tasted God . . . and almost was Him. In that moment, she was spirit . . . conversing with the moon looking down upon the earth in all its’ splendor, no boundaries . . . no fences to keep her in. The gate now open, led to everywhere it seemed day and night were one. And as the spiral whirled . . . she flew . . . and flew until at last she touched the sun for one eternal moment until she fell, as those who fly must do, broken-winged and shattered. Now she walks with mortals hiding feathers in her pockets finding rocks that hold her to the earth. They speak to her of ancient wanderers, souls who might have flown like her in mystic rituals or daydreams . . . once upon a time. And we . . . who have never left this earth in flight or fancy nor felt the rush of wind beneath our wings try to tie her down with pills and promises hoping she won't fly away again to leave us gazing at the sun and wondering where she’s gone this time and how . . . with empty pockets. . [ Next Thread | Previous Thread | Next Message | Previous Message ] |