didn’t want to admit to it
had beaten the clouds back again and again and again
as many days as i can recall

because
swirling deep down in my chest
something wonder-filled exists

mysterious
luminous
contented

this something knows no borders, no fear, no doubt

time makes this thing laugh

it is pure, sincere, serene
it asks no questions, offers no answers

it loves you
you blasphemer, you blind warrior, you who are prone to fits of rage
it loves you regardless

it sees you fully
in as many parts of you as there are moments to exist

and it is thankful
for the light it sees seeping through the fissures of your face

it holds you, and blesses you, and wishes you safe passage

it cradles within itself the secrets of innumerable ages
it tells no one when it is observing
it offers flowers at the feet of the Buddha
and watches over me while i sleep
it prays for you when i forget to
and it waits, with infinite patience
to see you again
untainted by the distance of civilization

trouble is: this thing has gone missing

i remember its shape, its way of talking

i remember the way you called out for its comfort

i can see you now
dressed in clothes to kill a prophet
pleading, clawing for a moment of transcendence
knee deep in the void and desperate to bridge that gap

you turned to me and asked for my hand

flattered, i obliged

one soul after the next
winds screaming round my face
any lapse in concentration deadly
i projected your intention when you didn’t know how

i laid you down on sands warm and safe
and sat with you until you felt well
only then did I go on my way
no debt expressed, no payment required

all i asked was that you honor what we shared

and you, and you, and you did no such thing

frontiers that we, as a species, must face
maybe once every dozen years
i stepped through, repeatedly

now my hands are no longer those of a young man
and my eyes seek rest and neutrality
my soul clings to shreds of compassion
while my body burns for the pleasures of the ignorant

the demons have marked my door

so i fight
i fight to maintain something close to normalcy

i fight the black hand prints signaling me out as a threat
i fight the shame that keeps us from living our full lives
i fight regression into a place of submission
i fight feelings of unworthiness
i fight the lack of love that has held me prisoner for longer than i care to believe

and i fight for so many days straight
that i forget that thing for which i am fighting
that thing which is to me sacred

04/20/2009

Posted on 04/21/2009
Copyright © 2024 A.M. Demarco