Morning Star

This one hit me hard.

I took a walk among the morning stars
The new spring sun soon tipped above the horizon’s line
I walked free and meandering, weaving in and out of streets and buildings cool and silent in this new sun’s light. The wizened trees and aged roads seemed brand new with the pale touch of the opening day. My winged brethren sang in exultation of life and the birth of our new arrival. I flowed past and through all around me as the Mississippi to the sea, as rain travels down the Rocky Mountains. I tasted each new passing sight as a hummingbird tastes the flower’s nectar wine.

All was as fleeting and untouchable as timid deer in a ghostly fog. All was there and gone as the passing smoke of a cigarette burned up in the brief flash of a single moment. It all was real and yet unreal. I despaired at my inability to truly know each moment. I flailed about and with grasping hands tried to catch each moment and tie it all down. I hoped to secret each nuance of the sea and colored shade of the sun and sky away, into a treasure chest buried deep within me. I wished I were a sponge to soak each aspect of this precious experience into me forever.

I realized then that I was jealous of the sun and sky and open seas. In my attempts to know them I hoped to become as they are. I was as an ant eyeing the blue whale in its immensity hoping to become that which so drastically outshone me. It was as futile as hoping to trap air with my bare hands. It was as impossible as trying to swallow the sea. I believe it is beyond me to know my world in its entirety. Its complexities and mysterious beauties, profound and deep, defy my humble comprehension. As I glimpse the sun upon the sea and all that surrounds and engulfs me; I am eclipsed. I am but a witness to that which utterly transcends my miniscule existence. I am a single blade of grass upon the plains of time. I am a single grain of sand upon an endless beach stretching into forever. I’m but a thread interwoven amongst a tapestry that surpasses the sum of us all divided.


I realized then that nature shone bright not as a challenge to be met. Rather they shone with love for me. In that moment I became lover and loved with all the open skies and seas and earth. Within the great beyond I was sheltered and held in a warm embrace; loved as a precious part of all that is and once was. I knew then that I am endlessly tattooed and marked by all life passed. I am a living painting and story, a moving mirror of life. Each moment has been carved into me, into my open heart. I am scarred and shaped by each twist and bend of time. Who I am is but a shallow reflection of things greater, both above and beyond me; the little man.

It is only in my words that I am able to be transcend myself. I ring out loud and clear upon the avenues and boulevards of electric lines and of wood paste pages collected in swathed bundles as babes in mangers lain. My words rise up and out as a song sung from every rooftop and cityscape, every wooded glen and towering mountain, open field and scorching desert. I sing the song of all mankind. I am but a channel for all of you. I am but a mouth to sing the praises of each and every precious gem of this vast human treasure trove. My words reach out to shake you all in your hearts and in your bones to quake. I ROAR INTO THE DISTANT MASS OF SOLITARY FACES “I KNOW YOU MAN AND LOVE IS ALL THAT I AM! YOU ARE ME! YET YOU ARE BEYOND AND ABOVE ME IN EVERYWAY! I AM BECOME LOVE IN THE BRILLIANCE OF ALL YOUR LIGHT! I CELEBRATE YOUR TRIUMPHS AND MOURN YOUR LOSSES! I AM YOURS! Atop my solitary tower of dream and word I scream rage and passion out upon the earth as seeds to spread. Each word is a drop of rain to raise new fledgling hopes in the hearts of man. I am a lover of humanity; a hater of our miserable wonderful place in this bizarre spectacle of a world. I am you.  






 

Author's Note

Gah help!

Reviews

[FuMiko]

What I feel that I have to admit to (seeing as how it took me ages to actually get around to really reading this) was that it did take almost four tries to get through the whole thing. It was just too much.
You understand, power is powerful. But when power becomes a constant, it loses its hold on you, it is accepted and expected. It's no longer powerful, or strong-- just like everything else.

Perhaps it is because you seem to enjoy complexity, detail in every piece. While I, as I'm sure you've long since noticed, find comfort in simplicity. Maybe it's because of this that I failed to find this piece as awe-inspiring as I should have.

It's simply too much of what is already a massive and rather broad statement.
I'm sorry if this isn't what you expected out of a review of mine.

[Nyida Strong]

Wow.... That was powerful. The chaotic feel only made it that much more real to me, as my mind is often as calm as a gaggle of second graders on a sugar high. The mixing of opposites and the constant reminder that we are all the same in that we are profoundly different forces the reader to look deep within and find that which connects us all... Love. Profound and powerful. I loved it and shall add this to my library.

N. Strong