Wild as the ocean, free as a mountain sitting motionless. Soft as a storm blooming in full.

Wild as the ocean. Free as a mountain sitting motionless. Soft as a storm blooming in full.

Saturday, March 1, 2014


In between the busy moments of production, washed in the sweat of the drive to live again, underneath quiet moments of focus and fortitude, lies an uncertainty of hope.
Everything you do is for maybe, so that possible can exist, someday.
Despite the mad pouring of self into work, the frenzied fashion with which one makes, more and more and more until toppling over blind-eyed;  A quiet doubt looms in the shadows, waiting patiently to be seen like a father waiting for birth.

What lies in the shadow terrifies me, making me want to crawl into a dark space and disappear for awhile.
Afraid to look. Yet despite my hard work, it beckons me to notice. Desperately.
It cries to me even when music is played to deafening heights, screaming behind notes, LISTEN TO ME!
But I just cannot look.  I don't want to go back into that dark space that I resided in for so long, a place of must and defeat...where I paid a high price to live for awhile.

Maybe someday, soon I won't have to ignore the beckoning of the deep and will take a few minutes to listen, to find out what the shadow wants.
To sit down and have a conversation with the darkness, knowing which direction is away.
When we are done, I'll go back to work like a fiend running to fix, but at least then, I'll understand what was being said in the dark.

Until that day, I will toil and labor on like a mole seeking light, upwards and away from the dark.


No comments:

Post a Comment