Saturday, May 27, 2006
Today I looked up into the sky again
So far, so close
the weeping hand;
the crying God of man.
And I reminisced of the past, of fleeting memories, dreams and desires. Like mists of a floating rainbow, touching the skin of your head so lightly, then escaping before you could gasp in astonishment. The beauty of today drips like honey down an oat tree in snippets; a little, but enough.
And as we savour the sweetness, the paradox jerks our soul like a cork flicked out a bottle.
It flows like swifting blood, stabbing within the depths of your conscience, and provokes the likelihood of Gnostic myths; searching within the crumps of morality left in that pathetic divine spark of yours to no avail. Only to be greeted by the dark con of man... The dark con of man...
posted@6:58 AM