You now what should make you sick, Alex? What should make you reconsider my offer? I cry more tears over the loss of a human being, in that place of perfect bliss, in that undisturbed, untainted state of being, than the mothers who send them off on wondrous journeys, lives no one will ever know, blank slates unpainted by their humanity. One reason I cry might give you pause, the loss of a soul that can never be consigned to me. Never forget, I was one step away from the creation of you and I weep when I see humans slaughter their own. We sat in an olive grove, ancient, the trunks thicker than four men dancing arm-in-arm, before a fire fueled by a demonic friendship and wine. The trees watched us, the breeze through the leaves whispering me warnings, grizzled old men, their book of accounting thicker then their own trunks, warning me of his deceit, jaws set, unwilling to tell me my own strengths, knowing the weakness that would call forward. If youve never sat beneath the boughs of an olive tree in Morocco, Spain, or Portugal, in the blessed hills of the Holy Land, one of the big ones; you try to wrap your arms around it, they do that to you, but then you realize youre caressing the edges of the bark, disappearing down a hallway of velvet, tears and laughter, if youve never danced under the stars as the fire rises up and kisses the bottom of the leaves and from heavens door, down through the veils of the stars, into the green of the leaves he whispers life, youve never drawn a breath, youve been faking. You open your eyes and the trees have disappeared. The canopy of their history is gone. One would think it would be bright, under a star filled sky, perhaps a moon dancing across the valley of our galaxy, stars dancing in his wake. The dark of it smothered me. The weight of dismally wet blankets shrouded me, my pillow a seething mass of crows, and with every star slaughtered and the sky dead I had to drift deeper and deeper into the cosmos in search of light. I found it on a corner of my sanity, I didnt know what else to call this piece of dirt, conjured for my viewing of it. A book, it lies unopened before me. https://youtube/watch?v=3qd_rEYSyWY
Posted on: Thu, 23 Oct 2014 18:20:31 +0000
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