A beam of white light touches a prism and suddenly both are
transformed by a flood of colour.
Connection is fear and longing. It leaves me shaken but
nourished. How could you ever predict who will utter a word of the language spoken
in the deepest recesses of your mind? An ordinary person touches the pressure
point unlocking a place you keep hidden and when you look up they are ordinary
no more.
And you are soothed in wounded places. And you scratch at
them.
Weight of the most powerful life force. They taught me that Namaste was the way of saying “I greet
the part in you where we are one”.
And you talk for six hours.
And as you dance the music enters two bodies like a breath.
You are suspended in time and space.
And a stranger speaking in a crowded room fills you with
such emotion that you don’t trust yourself to reply.
So you rub desperately at the rawness inside you - as if a visceral
reaction, any more than an overplayed thought, could possibly offer protection
from the corrosive nature of your own self-doubt.
---
A hand shifts our
birdcages around. Some are brought closer. Some move apart. Do not try to
reason it out. Be conscious of who draws you, and who not.
No comments:
Post a Comment