Caves of Mud, House of Stone

I pray for rain

I pray for silence

Even as the clouds hail by in the seeming hierarchy of nature

I disclose myself from the light of the winter sun and the new year

And follow deep in the shadowy depths of mind

Recovery of salvation,

I only sought absolution.

In that I did not find the rhythm that was perceived,

Or the song I wanted to capture.

I look around even as the white blind now tinted like autumn gold, or rather decay of purity,

Offers little shadow from the forces of which I find astonishing

But shadow enough is still shadow redeemed.

I look around at my faded rosary sitting atop a bible given as a gift over ten years ago

My first copy to own.

A blessing upon most holy standards,

And I abandoned, it has gathered dust and the binding is tethered and the cover torn,

But I felt I must.

And I started to read and I felt forlorn by a doctrine I cherished and filled my void of everlasting empty in my darkest times of the beginning,

6 days it took for mankind to be desecrated and seek doom and bestowed upon a journey of redemption, born into it, to only know there is further selection,

Or was it 7?

I can’t really remember now.

But I’m on Exodus.

I read a poem last night titled that too.

It made me think of you.

And left me in the shadow of blue, once again,

Rewritten to tell time and capture story of the greatest,

I thought I was born with greatness or at least destined to be thereof,

I was expected to perfection, to exceed greatness,

I thought this was a sign of my potential,

I never wanted to be perfect, only good enough.

And I still struggle with that concept.

I struggle with time.

I struggle with how to make you mine,

Or abandon ship and find that all I am, is all that is mine.

A cowardice grace and I left to race,

I received a blessing yesterday,

As I was showered with memories of before before, and before that too, many times over,

Then reminded of a line in which I had to sign,

And the light was left black no longer blue.

But even in those moments, I was reached out to,

I received the call

And another

And I ignored and left a message and contacted for perhaps to fulfill my wishes,

A destiny sought me of a future I too had left,

I put in the work and I was filled with dread,

I was so lackluster I resorted to honesty,

I charted path of pasts I’ve kept hidden,

Provided the documents, signed with cursor,

Cursed course of ailment,

And I am left eating unleavened bread in a desert not mine own,

Perhaps I will join you in the red, and leave my shade, though with a mighty groan.

I don’t know if I’m left the chariot to be washed under or climb with you in the plain,

I don’t know which side I’m on,

I never finished the chapter,

I just wanted to play some games.

…

So many birds fly by you know,

Cardinals, blue jays, finches, and sparrows,

A squirrel keeps coming by,

I saw a cat not my own,

I saw videos of the scarab beetles visiting my house, they’ve done that time and time again,

They’re not supposed to be found here, not in this area,

Did they follow me out from the desert and seek refuge?

Maybe this land belonged to them too once when all was connected and all was one and we spoke the same language,

No utensils to be used, no fun.

I wonder what happens when it rains, and their little ball of shit they worked so hard on gets carried away,

Did they chart down the slippery slope and follow after a little ball of shit, the ball of shit that gave them direction and the option to bestow a legacy?

Made a path, out of insurrection,

I ponder and ponder, but I do not bring myself to look out the window,

Even the owls hoot,

They’re not supposed to be awake right now.

They’re not supposed to be awake with me in this morning gleam,

I already forgot I didn’t sleep.

Caught up in my nightmares of repression,

Vocalizing in my head a story, my persecution,

In that hoping to find redemption,

I leave crumbs and you said you never gave up, you refused to give up,

Rock bottom is my grace and I am below the bottom top.

So instead I look to my beautiful grey cat, with ginger spots, with the eyes of chrysocolla,

And hear the classy dressed fellow meow at my door, however eyes more with green, more like aventurine,

This would be good belonging for a journey, for good flight,

I wish my eyes were shaded like theirs and I could receive introspection into my sight,

Even as I give up on pushing my little ball of shit, they choose to look past my abandoned posts, and still sit by my side.

They were cherished as gods you know, in the same area as the scarab beetle, the same area as me and you,

And if the scarab beetle finds me, and the birds still chirp and the birds still sing,

And butterflies flow past with memories of before, in their transition to lands of gold and evermore,

And the dragonflies too, with good nature and spirit,

And that damned squirrel still swindles near my window, hunting for nuts and acorns, even when it is not the season,

Why do I feel forlorn, as the breeze flows in eastwind?

Signs and synchronicities, of nature to warn me,

Renewal, resurrection, themes of imortality,

Rebirth from decay, and still traveling light even though the last chapters speaks of the dooms of day,

Yet I still choose to sit in my darkened room, like a canopy of ivy,

You said my house was made of stone, and my bed of mess,

My blanket the leaves,

But you were wrong.

My pillow was filled with husk.

And even as we slept and nature divulged, blessed my work and the seasons I tolled,

Everlasting perennials, made of seasonal variety,

And we slept a season of seasons,

And I still refused your gift with its core ivory.

I told you, you are not a friend of my friends,

This is why I don’t like you.

And you said it’s not like that, I waited, I waited for you.

I said I waited, I waited too,

But you never came after me, you never chased,

You left me eons ago, and this was in the old days and I negated waste,

And I did return, I suppose you never saw me,

A crackle in the whispers of the bushes, a twig snapped, a footprint,

I left all the clues, I left you with sound,

you could’ve found me.

Instead I find you here now,

You only chased after me because you saw me,

Now you see my garden, self sufficient with water flowing, irrigated for seasons, no pass, no pass to treason,

You see the dwellings created and my stupid little inventions,

Things to pass time, things to nurture, things to give me reason,

But it was just survivalism you see, I had to do something, at least nourish my curiosity,

You taught me everything, as I crawled, as we sat,

Watched the sun roll and the night gloom, over over again, you sat with me beneath the moon,

And we sat in silence,

I said nothing,

I only looked down,

I crawled from my caves, I didn’t have robes, I didn’t gave gowns,

The earth molded me, I was born from the mud,

Dirt in my fingernails, grains of sand in my teeth,

At least it gave me texture, as this texture gave me feast,

I said nothing.

I never had before.

And still you sat with me in silence.

I never hungered before, I never was thirsty,

This concept was new to me, this concept beguiled me,

And still I said nothing,

And you brought me a feast,

Ingredients like stories with the smell of amaretto, you could give me immunity, nutrients, energy, immortality,

And instead I feasted on the bowl of berries of nightshade, and I said this is so good, these are my favorite.

I feasted and feasted, but not did I fester,

I consumed the poison time and time again, and not once did I even blister,

You looked at me,

As if I would perish.

This what soothed my soul, this hearkened me, and I found it sound.

And I drank your drinks,

And I still chose the wrong one.

Drink of intolerance, drink not made of mine,

But I did not whine, and just sat the cup down,

Laid into the gold, and bowl of the bold,

I ate of the aged dripping in bacteria, and said this too is good, this meets the criteria,

I feel wrong however, like I have betrayed,

You are no friend to me if you steal from my friends,

And the offerings disappeared and you tried to make amends,

And still we sat in silence as ecosystems bloomed before us,

And I said we must travel, I’ll find us nourishment, I’ll find it before us, and after too,

And you gathered my hair, veil like a train that lay behind me,

Tied it in 8 knots, and not once did I trip even as we descended the stories,

And I blossomed, I began, there was so much to explore,

Peradventure, I could find my evermore,

Even through all this creation, and all that was bestowed,

If you were the creator, I created for you gold.

…

Still you left me, even though you said you waited,

And I asked if you waited, or you chose to give up the ghost,

And you smiled your crooked smile, no blessing among this host,

And I said peradventure, we’re leaving now.

Gather your things.

And you asked where shall we go?

And I said,

Anywhere you cometh, you cometh with me.

I’ll follow your path, but you follow me.

Stay steady, and I will be your rock.

The wind could torment us, but I’ll force the breeze soft,

And even if it chooses not to, I’ll cast the sails,

You cometh with me, this destination is not entailed.

And I made the waters clear but flow rapidly, keep your attention, keep you up to speed,

And even in the waters, I bloomed a fire for you.

If you’re coming with me, I’ll come with you too.

And we left the mountain, the mountain of qi,

And I gave it up for you; for the journey to start of you and me.