[Prose] Contemplation

2009-02-19 @ 1:39 a.m.

I liked the numbness. when I opened my eyes my hands felt like they were not part of me ... it felt as if I had been still a very, very long time.

Sometimes I look at myself and think I'm too tangled, too stained. I wonder if I'll ever be put to rights. Sometimes I sink into the stillness and beg.

Is it safe to be content?

I don't think so. Not yet. Not for years and years, not until I finally break this shell, and sprout, and let my roots filter in through the stones and lodge deep, and open my leaves to the sky.

Someday I'll be a beautiful flower, with God shining down on me, warm and radiant and alive, the very definition, the very embodiment of love. I feel a longing in my heart, like a river from my soul that floods my being when I do not check it, and I want to hear music when I open my mouth.

Someday. Someday. Living in the "someday" is hard. But I still claim to be practical, logical, despite a faith that often defies logic.

I suppose once God has reached out and touched you you are never the same. It's like a burn that's never quenched, whether you choose to forget it or not. Like a sigh that never stops.