What Is Heaven If Not Darkness
The birth of imagination
The birth of limitations
Or the birth of everything
At least in spaciousness, I get to exist too.
Start from somewhere
choose every time
And with this, I choose where to land
Sometimes I don’t get to decide until that moment
Sometimes it feels like I didn’t choose this.
Is it darkness that we get to see?
We think of light but it’s the contrast
It’s the hearer that hears, the seer that sees
Not the light shining at me
Darkness is inclusive because
is an intuitive decision, an acceptance of what’s clear and dare I say definite in this moment. Pretending to have answers is an instant soothing and a lifetime of facing what I smell but can’t taste.
The truth carried and the denial of its existence. Running towards the end of the tunnel but darkness stays consistent. I can’t hide from what I can’t see. And trusting the inner spirit or higher self becomes a place of laughter: how on earth does one root from deep imagination? A deep knowing that is researched without evidence, answered without question. Even with silence, meditation, and staying in the present, the line between what’s real and what’s imagination is thin if not transparent.
Who’s to say what is a blessing?
Prayer, gratitude, glass-half-full thinking.
What happens when your addiction is your best friend?
How to stay grateful from a distance?
And why is it that when I think of darkness, lightness comes?
Dare I say that lightness is not the one, not the sun, or the son
and definitely not the hero over victims and villains.
But who’s to trust my voice in this?
A mere becoming of stardust and darkness
Because why be here on earth,
I ask myself often.
Is it to look forward because surviving means you have to keep going?
Perhaps it’s not the past that emerges to exist in my dreams but the grasping of a
I can’t dream is the most daunting
Specs and reflections
The mirror affection
Seeing is a choice but trusting can’t be forced.
There is a
w a y .
It’s looking from the outside while staying within.
It’s breaking divinity as I trust the path I try to name.
How to have what’s not mine to grasp
A hand that holds but lets me go
Because darkness has the answers I’ve been