I have lived many lifetimes, touched many souls and had many touch mine, roamed the corridors of the heavens lost to some men, created new pathways for all mankind, and died to live and now live to die.
have mastered the art of "becoming." Sat quietly as a rock, flowed
smoothly as a country brook, left my mark like a howling wind upon a
mesa, and lit up the emptiness like a nova.
Sadly, the element I
seek most plays a celestial game of cat and mouse with my esse. The lost
language from the temple of love, where mortal words fall to dust
beneath the melodic whispers and ensconcing caresses of the eye upon
another. I know it exists. Memories linger, yet cower in shadows. Afraid
of being reborn into this world of mortal greed, lust, and violence.
Perhaps it belongs not in this realm.