Dark wings flutter against the windows of my perception,
blurring my sight. I blink not.
Sensitised, the light of night guides me.
Cruel sounds echo through my mind,
distorting my voice. I flinch not.
Criticised, the sound of truth guides me.
Sharp burrs brush against my legs,
scratching my skin. I cry not.
Incised, the blood of life wells forth.
Why be fearful of the dark? It is merely absence of that which leads us astray. Merely confronting us with unpleasant truths that are painful to even consider, let alone accept. The dark leaves us alone with ourselves. Leaves us alone to say "Who am I?". Leaves us alone to realise that we are irredeemably responsible for our own actions.
Midnight: Whether we are awake or asleep, is when we confront our deepest fear. Fear of failure, fear of death, fear of truth. False images form, to be dispelled by truth and self acceptance but many only remember the fearful shapes and not their resolution. The dreams that shift and change too rapidly. The running, falling, inevitably doomed figure. The chaos of the mind that is beyond words.
And so you light the candle, dispelling darkness. Creating ever shifting shadows, filling the void. Maya; the world of illusion weaves her web about you comforting you; swaddling you; stifling you. The radio or television captures your consciousness. Your senses bustle, your deep mind sleeps; waiting for music, or art, or dark…
Chaos take me, chaos bind me,
Show me your beauty, in the waves,
The flame, the clouds,
In fields of flowers,
In the deepest mind.
Midnight: the eternal initiation, the eternal psychic mirror, the eternal trial of our soul. Each day we are reborn from that initiation, each day we awake. But the light hides this realisation from us, makes us believe in nameless fears that should be shunned and denied. Light dazzles our senses, colour beguiles our mind. But when we are sick, or tired, or needful of rest, we seeks out the dark space that comforts. Forgetting fears created by illusion, our bodies know the truth: the Dark holds comfort.
And in that deepest darkness of a moonless night, the brightest spark becomes the brightest star. Our eyes are open, our minds aware, our skin aprickle but without care. With trepidation in our minds but hope in our soul we travel afar...
blurring my sight. I blink not.
Sensitised, the light of night guides me.
Cruel sounds echo through my mind,
distorting my voice. I flinch not.
Criticised, the sound of truth guides me.
Sharp burrs brush against my legs,
scratching my skin. I cry not.
Incised, the blood of life wells forth.
Why be fearful of the dark? It is merely absence of that which leads us astray. Merely confronting us with unpleasant truths that are painful to even consider, let alone accept. The dark leaves us alone with ourselves. Leaves us alone to say "Who am I?". Leaves us alone to realise that we are irredeemably responsible for our own actions.
Midnight: Whether we are awake or asleep, is when we confront our deepest fear. Fear of failure, fear of death, fear of truth. False images form, to be dispelled by truth and self acceptance but many only remember the fearful shapes and not their resolution. The dreams that shift and change too rapidly. The running, falling, inevitably doomed figure. The chaos of the mind that is beyond words.
And so you light the candle, dispelling darkness. Creating ever shifting shadows, filling the void. Maya; the world of illusion weaves her web about you comforting you; swaddling you; stifling you. The radio or television captures your consciousness. Your senses bustle, your deep mind sleeps; waiting for music, or art, or dark…
Chaos take me, chaos bind me,
Show me your beauty, in the waves,
The flame, the clouds,
In fields of flowers,
In the deepest mind.
Midnight: the eternal initiation, the eternal psychic mirror, the eternal trial of our soul. Each day we are reborn from that initiation, each day we awake. But the light hides this realisation from us, makes us believe in nameless fears that should be shunned and denied. Light dazzles our senses, colour beguiles our mind. But when we are sick, or tired, or needful of rest, we seeks out the dark space that comforts. Forgetting fears created by illusion, our bodies know the truth: the Dark holds comfort.
And in that deepest darkness of a moonless night, the brightest spark becomes the brightest star. Our eyes are open, our minds aware, our skin aprickle but without care. With trepidation in our minds but hope in our soul we travel afar...
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