Broken days of forever

I've been reading Rumi lately and wondering what door it was that he had knocked on...

And then the fingers of death closed around my heart and everything grew cold.

It was hard to believe that all that was familiar to me had lost its warmth.

The door was still open, the one I’d used, to come through, to get to here; and everything was silent except the noise inside my head.

Knocking at the edge of my mind was the sound of something trying to warn me as the gates of hell slammed shut on me. Fear made me jump; but did I jump back in time?

Did the gates close on me? Was I now in hell? How could I tell if anything was different?

I called upon my knowledge to save me but it was as if all my learning had turned into dust and blown away far beyond reach…

But this was just the beginning, for the door would slam on me many more times and echo down through my life; but what door was it? Was it the door to hell, or the door to heaven that I was knocking on and that had slammed shut on me?

TOO MUCH DEATH AROUND

Is death waiting for me then with open arms?

The shapeless face of this caught me in that ragamuffin turning I came to be in the midst of it turning once again that shapeless face. I became tired then of all the turning and asked for a reprieve; but I slammed the door a little too loudly and disturbed the anger that was waiting for me to accept it.

So it returned two fold and left me helpless to go hunting crocodiles, or anything else for that matter; so I left my gun at home and went for a walk in the woods to ground myself and listen to the trees give me their soundless advice.

As I turned the leaves looking for my resurrection to come back again to where I’d left off, I heard the sound of where I’d come from, calling me to come home. But it wasn’t just me, there was my shadow to turn as well, and that was the hard part of all I’d created.

I felt I was obliged to be drawn in to what I had no interest in, so I told it to go to the moon and shirked my responsibilities. I got away with that, so I thought, for many years, until one day the shapeless face confronted me in my ragamuffin turning place with all I should have done in all the times I should have done it.

Well I’m sorry, but I can’t be more than I am; the cold is too hard tonight; and anyway, there’s too much death around.

UPSIDE DOWN

I’m upside down trying to replace what has been lost to easily as I was trying to not be affected by it, all that came at me to be held at bay.

I guess the corruption finds its way to you any way it can.

Farm this animal out to the lowest bidder.

A straight return never hurt anyone.

I saw it coming as soon as I saw it coming.

I wish I’d done it when I had the chance to do it first while it was hot.

I could have been rich, if only.

The sequence I saw was my own failure as it bit me over and over again.

And then I found we weren’t friends anymore; the scar of that pain has haunted me ever since.

But it was my own mind that let me down; and as it let me down, I couldn’t tell anymore which side was up, and which side was down.

BROKEN DAYS OF FOREVER

I was contemplating turning back into dust when the bell rang for dinner and I found myself flailing about for what I perceived was lost; it was big and huge and made me think all over again of what caused it: that momentary lapse when you came to say how much you loved me that I found such a disturbance in my dreaming.

And then down all the long years I found it too hard to hate forever, and so I gave it up. I hope that one day you will too.

But then: I could possibly be fading right out of my life here, with all the weight of this life pressing down on me like this where the masters rule with an iron hand and I have to believe all they say.

I can’t live like that…

So I said: to hell with that.

Yeah, that’s what I said.

And then I swam out of there fast.

Well, the long arm in the dust to entrap me came from behind a lamp-post to say: what do you think you are doing?

Well, hey, I wasn’t thinking, so there, but I’m here, so what are you going to do about it?

I could take you somewhere you are your worst.

I really don’t want to go there thanks.

Not even if you got what you say so often that you want?

I want nothing.

Tiger, you got me.
...

There are broken days that just won’t join up back together again, no matter how hard you push them in the domino factory; so I skinned up and got it together again somehow and moved on from there.

Image from Pixabay

Join us @steemitbloggers
_{Animation By @zord189}