|
|
 |
|
| Author |
 Topic  |
|
|
zamolxes
Romania
93 Posts |
 Posted - Dec 16 2020 : 06:46:25 AM
|
An egnimatic force, stricking me as lighting when I least expect it, and with the power and calm nature posesses it opens the windows of my mind, allowing the fresh air to pass me by. A spring air, filling me up with familiar images, memories of a long forgotten childhood.
A gale of summer, taking me by the feet and shacking me up and down, nauseating me into peculiar sceneries, unfamiliar to my senses and yet familiar to my soul. Realms trodden by an earlier me, superimposing countless lifes upon my current one.
The smell of autumn and its fallen leaves reminds me of the impermanence of humanity, and the humility of life. However far and adventurous one could be, it still heads home amidst the harsh winds of decay. And as one painfully sheds its armor it is by courage that one surrenders.
Harsh winds of winter, unavoidable no matter how much clothes one wears. The cold and lifeless scenery mirrors itself in ones mind, and yet only a frail misunderstanding would get threatened by death. However brave one is, the phoenix's flaming wings must estinguish to leave room for revival. Nostalgic of an always forgotten truth, one turns on the wheel of samsara until he remembers... .
***
A child is born, the cries of the wolves, the falling of the stars, the ineffable splendour of the moon. Through the cries of nature the newborn moves, as a ripple through water. The child grows up as a tree does. A mirror his eyes, from which the world sees itself. A single light, and one with darkness. And yet this child, with his powerful cries faintly echoing through the halls of a poor built hospital, finds his frail body not able to maintain his sturdy spirit.
*
*
*
Heaven and Earth
Trying to write something regardless of being inspired of not, I also don't really like to think too much doing this. It's more like if it comes it comes, yet that feeling of inspiration, as if being blessed by the heavens, that feeling is worth a thousand cries. Speaking of feelings, I had a special share of them, some pretty typical, such as joy or anger, yet there are some who feel as if they don't belong to the human experience.
Let's say, if emotions are of the earth, then those feelings come from the sky, from heaven itself.
These special feelings, they seem to take me somewhere else, beyond the world in which we all live, yet one step away from nirvana, and they usually hide behind some powerful memories from my childhood. Interesting though, those memories that I have are very pure, and it really shows how children live hand in hand with nature, with life. My childhood was for the most part normal so to say, the most beautiful years of it I spent them playing in a park.
This great and beautiful park that was the home of so many of my adventures as a kid was located right in front of my apartment. It was fairly big, the entrance looking as some gates for one of those big english houses. Right from the gate you would be amazed of the huge trees that were found in the park, hundreds of years old, many times I would lose myself watching them. I would keep on looking at the leaves dancing in the wind for hours on end, feeling as if the entire scene was holding something far greater in there, a secret so humongous that it would take me out of my body forever were I to gaze at it.
So far so good, yet further up in this park we will find the place where nature spoke to me, each and every day, a connection so deep was born that a seed had been planted in the inner most core of my being, a seed that many years later would sprout a longing towards the source of all experience. In the middle of the park, a little further up the open space, sat a water fountain, so splendidly it showered it's water, that there wasn't even a single evening of summer where you could find an empty bench surrounding it. Further up was the place of my true childhood, on the left side there were some of those big trees, surrounded by green grass, a place where I used to sit and relax many times, other times playing with whichever kid was closer to me.
Between this little isles of greenery surrounded by rocks, there was a dirt road coming up the small hill that was found further up, many times I ran amok these small roads full of dirt with my bicycle. There was a time where I would go out with it each and every day, I would just take my bike and hours on end patrol every little road that you could find. After sweating under the hot sun I would just go and call my mom at the window facing the park and get a glass of cool coke straight outta the fridge. Ah the childhood. Then at the other side of a small alley, there was a slightly bigger zone, all full of trees as tall as the sky, and it was a place you could only find in stories.
The huge trees would leave a shadow so refreshing that even homeless people would spend their days in there, drinking cool beer and scaring us children whenever we got there. Have to say, it was a real challenge to pass through the entire place for us.
And a lot more I can say about the place and the memories we share, yet the special feelings that took root inside of me are hiding even deeper behind all of my memories, many times I feel as if they are older than myself, as if from a past life they haunt me. Many other times I wonder how something so out of this world finds its way in my field of consciousness, they shine as if to show me there is another realm more pure and real than all of my experience here on earth.
There were times when I would so casually let myself sink into them that waves of ecstasy would wash over me, all of my being would vibrate in resonance with it. Some other times I would just have to hear of some place or person to be hit by them, even now I kind of feel this longing of mine peeking at me from within, or when I think of the mayans and the pyramids of Yucatan I just seem to travel thousands of years back in time.
Other feeling takes me to the greenest forest someone can ever think of, and in the middle of it as if blessed by god himself would sit the proudest tree I have yet to see. And many other sensations that mostly take me towards India, only such a place could hold fields of pure bliss mixed with its mountains and rivers. Yet the Himalayan's ringbell would be a sound I could probably recognize even a mile under the sea. For all of these there were times when I thought some memories from a past older than my body just found it's way to me.
Be it that, or I was born transparent, in such a way that even today, when I look at leaves being embraced by the sun and dancing with the goddesses of wind, I feel as if being vacuumed cleaned into a higher reality, such a strong sensation it is that the whole of my emotions flare up at the same time, and the mother of them all is nostalgy.
So nostalgic of an always forgotten reality, looking at a light that shines through space and time itself, finding it's open doors in nature, I find home. A home long lost, always with open arms waiting for my arrival. But it is not time yet, since life can only love itself through the eyes of man, such beings we are, dancing lovingly and ecstatically with the whole cosmos behind a curtain of human experiences. Yet the whole of history, the whole of human desire, the whole bravery is nothing but a ripple of the innocence of a lost childhood.
So am I, being 19 today since I was born, yet for the love of life, I find myself dying and being born anew day after day in the hands of grace.
At the moment, I find life through different eyes, a pair of them are human, hoping for comfort and passion, yet many other times I find myself feeling the world as another part of me, my god, I was the entire universe in such nothingness yet it could never cross my silent mind. Such is the conclusion I have arrived at, that we are the universe in drag, sometimes getting trashed around by our individual and lonely self, other times drowning in bliss and divine love in the face of the mirror this world is.
Earth's cry the heaven's smile. |
|
|
k.cherry
USA
86 Posts |
Posted - Dec 16 2020 : 6:09:21 PM
|
nostalgia really is something, ain't it?  |
 |
|
| |
Topic |
|
|
|
| AYP Public Forum |
© Contributing Authors (opinions and advice belong to the respective authors) |
|
|
|
|
Journal of a seer -2- Heaven and earth
