Re: observations

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: : : : Quietly I sit and stare at what my eyes do not comprehend. It defies description, yet somewhere in my deepest soul I recognize that to which my gaze is transfixed. Then in complete frustration and hatred of my so limited flesh I scream and beat my breast with all my might that I may force it into submission and comprehension of that which has me in its strange wonderful grasp, or else destroy it and be free from these eyes which cannot see and ears that cannot hear. Oh that i could tear me skin from my body and see with that which is true and holy. But still i scream and pound like an animal in my animal flesh and others see me staring at what their eyes also do not percieve and they think me insane. They steer clear, they give wide berth to this animal who has no control of his animal passions. They think me base and savage, but then maybe they are right. Then suddenly without warning a gentle breeze falls to my face from the direction of that which I cannot see and it hits with the force of a thousand gales stripping and tearing my flesh in its cool gentle whisper and still i scream as my soul surfaces to greet this invisible manifestation of that which my eyes do not see and my ears do not hear with the only articulation it can muster to even approach the intensity of its longing. And in my soul is the most painful wonderful sensation as if it were being at once dissolved and reconstructed. : : : : And then it stops and I am left panting and staring at that strange wonderfulness which my eyes do not comprehend and my ears do not percieve and in my soul is the deepest form of love and longing a thousand times the desire a young beloved feels for her distant lover, or a young lover for his distant beloved. And again my soul screams at the top of my lungs for the intensly painful separation it feels from its one completion. : : : : So still I stare panting and wounded looking intently at that which my eyes do not comprehend and in my soul a fire burns longing for just the merest whisper of a wind that thrashes my body and shreds my mind, for the glorious holy pain of purification which is the only true love a soul can know. And still others see me and think me insane for so desperately longing for my own destruction. : : if these eyes were mine i would gouge them out and if this tongue belonged to me it would be severed from my body...but it's not mine, it's been sold to the oldest buyer...to the highest bidder...and so i sit mentally enthralled by the taste of my own blood...until i taste His... : : bitter...sweet...it's all unclear and surreal. : : the light is blinding and becomes a form of darkness. : : ...groping and groping...if i can't understand then i'll have to learn to trust. : : but still my question is this...why does my own most repulsive blood seem to taste so sweet when spilled...and why am i so proud as to desire that his was not... : : my sin : : my pain : : my consequences : : i wish it were not necesary...but i will drink of His blood often on account of this sin of pride : : and i will eat His flesh in hopes of death and in hopes of growth. : : my desire is at best repulsive to me because it is true that i love Him because He first loved me. : : .....SIGH : : if these eyes were mine i would gouge them out and if this tongue belonged to me it would be severed from my body...but since that is not the case i will make my boldest attempt to be a servant and find His strength in my weakness. : These senses of mine seem so wearisome to me... the pleasures and things in which so many place importance and find meaning are of no value. I build my own prison atop the one in which i was placed at birth and I tie my own chains on so tight that the blood will not flow beneath them. And then I must strive to keep myself chained as they incessantly keep falling off. Why can't i just get up? Why do i keep spending so much time to forge my chains even though i know that they will just fall off again. My heart is sick with my own vanity and the way it affects others. When i look around i see how those around me struggle and anguish over their own chains and somewhere deep inside it hurts me. : Then without warning the words jump from the tongue in my mouth which is not mine and it screams of joy and liberation and i learn from my own mouth that speaks with another's voice, even though i would stop it if i could. I want out... I want to be free... I want to be as the words tell me i should... I want to live at peace and throw off chain-making forever. It is so simple, but still I hear the clanking of the hammer as I add another link. : What can i do? I must remove them all, one by one. I must let it all go and live like the servant I am. Who am i to keep placing the chains on someone else's property? Who am i to worry for another's things? : If the one who bought me and owns me has told me to live free am I sinning to do otherwise?

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