Falling, mortally wounded by
exhaustion, both physical and psychological, to sleep, I dream and in
the dreams are dialogs. And this one was a massive endless
conversation about love. In reference of which I now envision pruning
the tree of myself. The less productive parts away that the tree not
merely survive but grow stronger and taller . . . and it hurts!
About her is the promise of
a Promised Land, what I’ve sought for a lifetime. And for which and
what I am dying for. Yet my courage flags, fails, slumps like a wrung
out dish towel quavering. Her courage is equal, if not greater, to
mine and proven over four years organically. Love sweet and savage
tending to those about to die with kindness and compassion; a love
that transcends gender expression. For to see us is nothing special
just two people in love inwardly blazing a conflagration.
Fiction
in order to be coherent must be probable but, reality is improbable;
our love affair, by any definition, is a rouge wave http://encyclopedia.thefreedictionary.com/rogue+waveupon we, for now, are
surfing not submerged. I could but refuse to detail the analysis or
the winds that move me about life. My sole intention being to vivify
your soul into being the primary motive of living. Love, after all,
is the greatest force and power, of greater value than any measure of
success I know of.
If, at times, I flag
and quail, it is more so this moment, in recognition of what is
drawing us together. Drawn up from the ground of my being, I still
think myself a “bad person” incapable of surviving the storm of
love. Add
to date the events, momentous in themselves, would be sufficient for
an eternity absent
the next moment, day, year or what might be a lifetime together; no
matter how long or brief.
I think, at times, The
Author of me, of us, we all, has a sense of humor terrifying; and so
I know what it is to “fear the Lord” in ways both pleasurable and
painful. For me this move is a kind of death bereft of any promised
success. Annie, my companion cat, is of course, a part of my most
serious concern: my principal reason for returning to Las Cruces.
Anything else is, by descending order of importance, all that I care
to take forward with me.
“Is life not a
thousand times too short for us to bore ourselves?” - Nietzsche
By free and random
associations quotes have become the grape shot ventilating my
imagination and synchronicity. Then too, add, the various
interactions between broadcast news, NPR, and various conversations
and encounters. Add the mixture into the stone soup of my mind an out
comes what I write; a synthesis.
“Cats are angels
with fur.” - Sark
It’s the ‘smells
and bells’ of my worshipful life . . . though, sometimes, as now,
spindled and mutilated by exhaustion, I am impelled forward. To say I
love The Author and she to whom I go towards is to say little for the
experience in vast. I
am a person who makes things happen, not a viewer nor a wonderer
about what happened. For those I love and know well I am savage in
that. . . .am I willing to sacrifice myself and Annie? I wonder! Pray
for me.
Worth mentioning: Collecting
quotes is for me not dissimilar to Bible Bingo; randomly opening the
Bible and meditating upon what I find. Begun long ago when a minister
suggested it was possible to write one self into sanity by keeping a
journal. The result is a marvelous disrespect and reverence for
everyone and everything. Not a slayer of the powerful so much as a
jester.
To pray is not merely to lay
face down upon cathedral flags saying, “Here am I send me.” It is
to engage life upon the hoof entering the cyclone.
Where I go is more important
than what I take with me; this simple fact makes the entire move
simpler. Lighter. My concerns irrelevant. This process, begun long
ago, proves itself repeatedly. Providing me with a wondrous array of
options to write about. Here I am tempted to post additional clues,
so stunning, even to me, that I refuse to eclipse the process in
yourself; the Author’s dialog with you.
08:12
My unremitting ignorance has
led me to slander those who purport public service. Thus
discrediting myself wholesale. Yet following the above mentioned
methodology I am gleaning an education and sense, in the near future,
an ability to communicate some small insights to those like me,
lifelong victims of the rich, powerful and forceful. Having forgiven
my parents I now include those I once slandered. Intending to make
peace possible in our time before all time ends. Conscious that no
one ideology can suffice, it is we who must participate responsibly
in the struggle against ignorance of how we make choices . . . did I
just reinforce “Love your enemy”?
That said, I cannot love:
intolerance, hate, violence, war, ignorance, fanaticism, bigotry or
zealotry.
No one institution or person
is my enemy since I see what is not obvious to either myself or they
I address. Nothing is what it seems. It is that I was taught I was
too stupid to live that has brought me thus far and too well aware of
how much further there is to go. Instead of being crushed I am
vivified by the challenge.
130616 MDT 03:11 pruning
©
2013 by Jack Spratt—All Rights Reserved
