Soul roots
Some endless place from my heart came and woke me up, like a hard-hearted woman, until I was falling out of bed.
I was thinking that I could write a blues song from this, about the endlessly falling; and call it: the ‘silvery gorgeous’ for want of a better name; and almost a poem, a philosophy that is the state of our minds at any point along the way.
Some soul tune came over me then and I began rubbing my knee very hard; an old complaint brought on by the mad genie haunting me for another command.
Oh I could tell you things about the mad genie.
Relax was the suggestion still hanging on.
I felt I had to get out of town soon or be forever lost in the maze.
A double glazing man sent me up the flagpole then with his incessant drivel on the phone, so I put it down and went back to what I was doing before there was ever anything to concern me more than the moment to live in.
Ideas came from this to rent out another room or be silent that found me floating back to my soul roots once again.
Well, you could tell by this that I was going all over the place trying to find what I couldn’t buy.
Almost emergency rations for the blind was called up, but dialling another number I felt one more note, reach me in time to breathe again inside my soul and not count the hours that were wanted by the machine of my thinking.
I reached for the bell, and dinging it most furiously, I called out: next!
Anyway, as to falling out of bed, I don’t recommend it that much. I’ll see you next Thursday then, to come clean out me brushes, again. Goodbye.
Never was that much good at saying goodbye, but I had to say it a lot of times before I could begin to say hello.
Well, you know, what goes around comes around.
I am beginning to feel as if I am talking to myself here, in this burning fire that’s a storm.
For the rest of us watching this I suggest we all exit the building now or god knows what may befall on our heads; the beloved maybe, or a stale bag of chips.
“And let us not rest until we find out, or on our heads be upon it some biblical thing from out of the bible,” said the cookie jar pointing at me as if I wanted to get out.
And bending this way I receive the music; and bending that way I find what my soul roots are; putting them both together I find my grass roots.
Well that’s how I saw it moving, anyway.
And now that’s all I’m going to say about roots n stuff, build your own bridge from here on in.
Images from pixabay
Falling out of bed, on occasion I landed upon the ceiling.
Everything is so much simpler with clearer surfaces.
Seeing all the modcons that once upon a time would simplify life then turned jailer, devices, vices, just out of reach in this shifted world, hanging from my newly fashioned ceiling.
Looking up now at the inverted room, I find myself as detached from this tangible clutter as I have been the intangible empty endless echoed place which I referenced as my heart.
I feel it beating in my chest, never resting, never idle, yet I still insist upon it's emptiness.
An organ responsible for circulating life into this vessel, a lofty task all it's own, has been laden with such responsibility as to be the care taker of most complex and unquenchable emotive desire. Upon my failing to fulfil this thirst I render it's chambers empty in spite of it's continual tidal flubdub, ebb and flow.
It's beat begins to quicken as this strange conundrum brings rise to panic. A flash, a memory, a feeling, a maze like an infinite tangle of wool, or a bowl of spaghetti in which am adrift, tasked with untangling, make sense of, and traverse if I am to fathom the purpose of this construct and decode the very universe itself.
A fleeting primal memory resides in this entangled flash. A temporary bridge built within a synapse, arching back in time to before questioning, when knowing was being, before ego eroded what is and resulted in this fractured emptiness that outside of these momentary shift, I can only extend only as far as my beating heart, my concrete thinking no longer able to engage such perceived abstraction.
This familiar trance, but a freeze frame from a replayed dream, unnerves. My head swims as my senses slow and they too entwine.
A memory, lifes answers lost in the very questioning of things. The development of thinking eroding knowledge.
Heart beat slowing to gentle flail I catch sight of my own form prostrate upon the bed, having not moved and still stationary, a peaceful slumber. A startling light emitting from within and without fills the room with we audible buzz. It pierces through all matter of things bringing with it pure clarity.
I tumble from great height from above, or was it below? Endless and suddenly all at once, apart from the constraints of time and such abstract notions.
I awake with a start as I fall into my own familiar vessel, steadying myself, the smallest wisp of a thought or even a knowing floats away as I exhale.
The hard hearted one settles again upon my heart, as I turn over and return to my dreamless slumber. My soul takes root, lulled by a hauntingly familiar gorgeous silvery floating song.
In the morning I wake with a burn in my knees, an old complaint that today has a sharpness, as though I have fallen upon my knees from a great height, rather than just woken from a nights sleep.
Wow
😉