His Garden For Humanity

Scattering across fingertips
Sifting through contemplation.
This little story book called life;
She's now a pale pencil sketch.

Blow blinding wind. Exhaust yourself!
Whirl away this entrapment
Appease the past and hide me deep
For if I shine, I might lose control.

Is it not too good to be true
This scandalous purity
Whom desires to re-define
The epitome of me?

Look, the garden of His mind waits
Sweet songs simmering; calling.
Inviting into good comp'ny
Beyond splendid circumstance.

A convergence of bleak and bright
Between chaos and stillness;
Could my sun rise in His garden
And be found in His likeness?

With open hands the ash will fall.
 Inhumane rambl'ngs will cease.
The promise pages will be blank,
For that story is brand new.

I DARE

FATE: VICTIM
I started out as a freckle-sized piece of glitter. My reflection, a seemingly miniscule glint, that through happen stance stumbled onto the back hand of FATE. And there in the perspiration of FATE, I continually collided with promising worlds. Over and over they slowly wandered past me after initial collision, taunting. My insides never able to fully comprehend the meaning, but every time a swirling marble of opportunity introduced itself to me, something began to burn fierce inside. At times, it felt like I was being embraced and the yearning increased causing my spirit to rise; and for a moment, I thought we would become one; me to the promise and it to me. That I would be free to wander and roll in the depths of the unending abyss of being understood. But I remained stuck. Stuck on the hand of FATE. And I would watch from a distance as bigger glints danced in unison around colorful orbs, which stole hours of MY tears. I hated them. Above all, I detested the inconsistent haphazard life with FATE and my own inability to be strong enough to stick to anything else.
Life became easy as a glint; a blip on the radar; a pause; an exhalation of no more use to it's owner.

There was a moment; I was resting my eyes. Then like a scattered raincloud, this thought meandered in: What would happen if I didn't bother opening them again? My mind began to roll and ponder this. Mulling over the idea over and over and over. Embracing the idea more and more. I could feel myself sinking...sinking...my physical body twisting as it was encapsulated by FATE. Strong roots puncturing and multiplying, but no agony. Just a dullness. I was becoming one with FATE; fading out.

Fading Out; I do it often. When cars are no longer colorful life-changing inventions of the imagination, but masses projecting themselves through space. When my daughter's smile is only solid white and I no longer notice her Father's signature gap reminding me how happy we were. When the fingers of a fine pianist become a commodity rather than an incredible manifestation of muscle, bone, skin, and tissue collaborating in harmony and melody with the brain. When self worth is about performance and profitability rather than standing still and being seen...being known. When hiding in the pipedream is the only safe option because one more broken promise might kill me.

DESTINY: POWERFUL
A breath. It has awakened me. The hazy and crusty feeling on my eyes begins to loosen. A breath. It has found me. A sensation resting on my cold cheek. It somehow seems so familiar-like little kisses dancing on my cheek bone...nose...eyelashes. What is happening inside of me?
It begins with a gasp; then an unrecognizable warmth drizzling down my cheeks; then a dull throbbing that begins to shift superficial root systems, which are protruding from my chest. First clockwise then counter as if flesh is being divided from bone. The back and forth motion is beginning to increase in momentum. What started out as a tingling sensation has turned into literal heart wrenching. Like a hand, the roots are pulling at something deep inside me. Twisting and manipulating. A moan exits my throat-dust exhaled from lack of use-as one of the roots begins to splinter and finally detaches itself from  the main limb. Others pieces following in suit, cracking and breaking.
Then silence.
I hear it. My breath. As it floats effortlessly in and out, I see MY breath. Golds. Pinks. Reds. Flickering among the dark dead root pieces floating before my eyes.
Still embedded in my chest are the remaining fingers of FATE. I watch as they disintegrate and gaping wounds on my chest begin to knit back together. Then it comes again. The breath. Once again like little kisses the scars on my chest disappear. But then IT happens.
IT can only be described in past tense as the agony was monumental. I could not remain present. The breath manifested in front of me. Like diamonds, reflecting colors I had never seen. Mixed between clear and gold and magenta and blinding light. An unspoken bonding occurred. It was like nothing I  had ever seen and it came to me. It was my promise and I couldn't fathom saying, "no". I reached out in desperation,  hoping that it would not flee. In an instant I was surrounded and enveloped. I wasn't alone anymore. That is when I heard: "You can trust me." Like a jackhammer, something in my chest jumped causing my entire being to cry out in a pain. Even after the jolt had transpired the cries of my soul did not.
It seemed like ages that I was held and coddled. There was no more physical pain, but the years of seeming rejection, separation, anger, bitterness, disappointment, and hate needed a target. Like a disobedient and orphaned toddler, I screamed and cursed and punched and kicked, yet the promise did not leave. As I tried to tear and claw at my rescuer, it only held me tighter. When I hit exhaustion, I heard the breath again, "I love you MORE."
         
I was forever undone.