Jewel in the Muck
They both died sad. For different reasons, many of them the same. I was sorry, but I didn’t go on missing them, the way that I miss Doodle. It’s sad, that I felt closer to my rabbit.
My parents hid their soul from me. Surely it was beautiful. Surely I would have loved a glimpse of it. Would have cherished it forever. Hidden from themselves, perhaps they had no access to it.
I lost my soul once. She didn’t go away; I couldn’t find her. I was so cold and lonely, I gave up looking for warmth or comfort. I don’t want to die sad, alone, or frightened. Death might well be gentle, like sliding feet into warm slippers, padding quietly to bed.
Once I looked to death as a deliverance, when I wanted out of my own skin, but never have I been afraid of it (not for myself, but I worry over loved ones). Death brought me fully into life. For that I’m grateful. All those years of sitting on the fence, he made me choose. Forced me to consecrate my soul, to be here.
I nearly lost my soul forever, or if I’d found her, after death, I wonder if she’d forgive me? So pure, so full of light, I worried that I had tainted her. Ever at war with my own self, body against mind, heart against body, my soul was a treasure I cherished and respected. The jewel in the muck. The shining Lotus.
Some days the world seems bleak and pointless, and I forget why I am here. I am here to search for beauty. To share, speak, reflect, radiate, revere, inspire, honor beauty. To revel in beauty, as a Lotus rises from a muddy swamp, radiant and triumphant. Finding her equilibrium in essence.
Unswayed by the elements. Strongly rooted in a loving matrix. Soul invested, soul ordained, soul-ly led. Steady on.