Rather i’d be falcon than falconer since she is a giving mistress allowing free flight in creation creating me. Rather than the blame game: naming genders of things insoluble. Become the solution: unconditional love. Just mercy freely given to all even to the persecutors of all life dined upon.
Yet I remain a pragmatist, capable of processing much, insatiable as the Fargo Shredder. Making not a mist of pink vanity so much as leaving it whole restructured as it was. Always in fear of death and loss.
Today was difficult for I had to rend myself thrice over to discern what I desired of my day from an admixture of myth, omen, portent, rune and ruins potential of time always consequent. Creation stops for no mortal. The winds of eternity making sand then dust of all monuments; an idle mote upon mote in time removable. Birth is sacrificial lasting many years consequential. Of birth men know nothing; becoming lemmings playing a follow the leader infantile. Children at children’s games kill the opposition. Giving birth only to death. Or slavery. Gambling their souls for the pleasure of certainty; once killed nothing arises. All conflict dispatched.
Yet at the time of death the embryo of fear arises and realizes that it too will die vomiting the bile of all blood lust returned eating it self.
Should I have said; “Rather a day as Lion than prey?”
Is The Creator one or the other, Lion or Lioness?
The question is unanswerable. But the ability to form the question is it’s own reward. Since those willing to live and die for another know their infinitesimal origin clean and clear of vanity. Hear in silence the hum of creation blindly see the heart of things and will for those who devour them have mercy. Doing no harm.
As infant, child, man and now what? I forget the crimes against me but never the kindnesses. Thieves abound oblivious their theft of themselves. With a little less than two hours rest I went to water aerobics lead by a man I admire. In the course of chit chat sharing our origins I confessed the wonder of stained glass. It was an odd time and place for merger of love for the same life of all differently defined. Both sharing a kinship odd, unique amongst all states, the smallest. We agreed on the folly of knowing, at least I now surmise, since we both are brothers in age clearly pressed upon the dark glass of death so near. Good friends need not agree. But the friendship is a love beyond measure of value. Oddly we concur concern for those who follow and wonder what they will make of our knowing; accepting we’ve done the best we could with ours. Fabulous these lives lived; fearless in leaving.
In the silence of infinity; when the student is ready, the Teacher will appear. As for we, in that moment, upon the cusp of eternity; saw one another for what we are.
Kindness.
121114 20:31 falcon
© 2012 by Jack Spratt - All Rights Reserved
Yet I remain a pragmatist, capable of processing much, insatiable as the Fargo Shredder. Making not a mist of pink vanity so much as leaving it whole restructured as it was. Always in fear of death and loss.
Today was difficult for I had to rend myself thrice over to discern what I desired of my day from an admixture of myth, omen, portent, rune and ruins potential of time always consequent. Creation stops for no mortal. The winds of eternity making sand then dust of all monuments; an idle mote upon mote in time removable. Birth is sacrificial lasting many years consequential. Of birth men know nothing; becoming lemmings playing a follow the leader infantile. Children at children’s games kill the opposition. Giving birth only to death. Or slavery. Gambling their souls for the pleasure of certainty; once killed nothing arises. All conflict dispatched.
Yet at the time of death the embryo of fear arises and realizes that it too will die vomiting the bile of all blood lust returned eating it self.
Should I have said; “Rather a day as Lion than prey?”
Is The Creator one or the other, Lion or Lioness?
The question is unanswerable. But the ability to form the question is it’s own reward. Since those willing to live and die for another know their infinitesimal origin clean and clear of vanity. Hear in silence the hum of creation blindly see the heart of things and will for those who devour them have mercy. Doing no harm.
As infant, child, man and now what? I forget the crimes against me but never the kindnesses. Thieves abound oblivious their theft of themselves. With a little less than two hours rest I went to water aerobics lead by a man I admire. In the course of chit chat sharing our origins I confessed the wonder of stained glass. It was an odd time and place for merger of love for the same life of all differently defined. Both sharing a kinship odd, unique amongst all states, the smallest. We agreed on the folly of knowing, at least I now surmise, since we both are brothers in age clearly pressed upon the dark glass of death so near. Good friends need not agree. But the friendship is a love beyond measure of value. Oddly we concur concern for those who follow and wonder what they will make of our knowing; accepting we’ve done the best we could with ours. Fabulous these lives lived; fearless in leaving.
In the silence of infinity; when the student is ready, the Teacher will appear. As for we, in that moment, upon the cusp of eternity; saw one another for what we are.
Kindness.
121114 20:31 falcon
© 2012 by Jack Spratt - All Rights Reserved
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