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Flow the words from my fingers through the medium, plastic metal silicone electricty

Networking this disconnected prayer: Thou Encompassing Good, thou Great Way, wandering among my fellows here, embraced by you and setting forth within you, there are these moments of angst.

Certain tracks: My brother’s ashes lay now in the ground near my father, where my mother will surely be, beneath a stone marker:

BUFFALO
21 April 1950  -  27 August 2013

And before we gathered there, following the highway from Abilene to Tuscola, via the phoneway from Florida to Abilene we learn of Von Golleher’s passing onward, in certainty. Now only Momma & Uncle Bill from a family of eleven brothers & sisters.

But such certain tracks do not give me this pause I feel, this hitch in my ownmost being. I know that I am scared to Death, that is a fear I have grown to feel well near my Left Side, always hovering and about to touch me.

Rather uncertain treks bother me.

The Great Way requires jumping off the cliff like the Fool, into that abyss Insecurity.

I take refuge in the Dharma – the Teaching – the Customary Deep Breath before the Great Leap… drawing this energy LIFE around me, falling disconnected from the act of detachment…

falling falling falling – no conclusion, no end, no…

hung up

Meloncholia20130423Who is this Dread Angel that catches me up from my uncertain treks?

Who is this dark, mysterious, shadow laden and inward turning, interiorizing DOOM?

The Dark Night of the Soul catches my breath with tears and sobbing for my fearlessness–now dissipated by the mind-numbing work of the day to day to day.

Today–deep breaths of This IS, where weeping becomes joy becomes rapture becomes tractions becomes…

A toe on the ground of Being, a finger brushing the hem of Eternity.

Crying in my office while the lonely work around me not knowing, not seeing, what the uncertain trek always already encounters… Hopefulness.

Hope through Love. Hope with Life. Hope in Belief.

I believe in the Good, the greatness of Dao, of Heaven, of Earth, of Humanity. I turn onto the uncertain trek, go far away, and return to this certain track…

O thou sad spirit of torpid thought, wherein lies the Force of your Shadow when the Sudden Brilliance of Meaning shines forth?

Melancholia’s fingers slip from around my collar.

Falling again in this energy coooon where the Fool becomes the Mage.

The Encompassing bears witness to my testimony.

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2 thoughts on “Melancholia: Certain Tracks and Uncertain Treks

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