#155 ~ Free Fall into/with Me

Like the rain that pelts these single glazed window panes

The consonant rhyme helping to keep these lines in time

You ask me to free fall

With no cord or bungee support

Off the side of Control-Cliff

Expertly engineered under My high Way

Into an abyss of nothing-ness.

The optimum word in the sentence is trust

The first thought that flashes through my mind

Is that I will bust my ass on the rocks that form

the gorge pool, elaborately covered by the foams of a turquoise plunge pool.

It’s my strength that we are relying on

But these muscles are tired from

Rowing against the tide

Undergoing that long distance ride

Until massages can’t even hide

The distorted form of this bruised and blotchy human side.

My intellectual faculties of comprehension and eloquent expression

Were the tools I used to further my profession.

The basis, the foundation, the Cephas of my self-governed nation

A kingdom of grey matter, over which I am the only Father

And now you say it’s all crumbled to dust

I the Creator must become the Desecrator

Bulldozing through the temple, erasing the remnants

Till it reintegrates into the cycle: from dust to dust.

And instead of that knowledge that sometimes transpired into wisdom

I should return to a distant voice

Overpowered, under-shouted, over roared by the thunder, the lightning, the earthquakes and the ever-present heart that is thumping.

Instead – of course there’s always a stead, a steed of a different breed that will return me to the Foreign Homestead

I should bend my ear, to the faintly heard whisper

and seek to honour a Governor who controls no boarders I can see

No militant lines, raises up no National Boundary Signs

Of this here terra…


…and in giving up my desire

I will find a path that will lead me to the higher realm, design, functioning plan of your regimes prime

goal, inspired

to march through the mire, to a different drum beat, which promises to make this yearning heartbeat

secure, in His ultimate desire.

Well…I’ll try not to make the prospect seem too dire.

In the process, I’ll be she, the one that is attempting to trust in the vision which claims to be, and resolutely is

higher than mine.

The will of the divine.

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