A Soul's Turmoil

11 elul:

As the voice got clearer, her face fades, disappearing into the ether of the abyss known only as the dream’s cloud. That cotton candy-like cushion, for subconscious wanderings. I hear his voice crying. I feel his tears burning, his words as constant as my heart’s beat. “I’ve done all I can”, his pleading cries, a constant reminder, when will I do all I can? When will I awaken from the deep self- induced coma I so casually wear, whilst trailing through life? When will I do all I can to prevent my lover, my partner from falling into a place beyond recognition?

I feel guilt. Terror. Anxiety. Fear. That I’m losing Her to the animal that is my neighbor. I’m practically giving Her over as if a pagan sacrifice. I see Her in chains sobbing, pleading, begging me to reclaim Her, but I’ve lost the feel for Her, I lost the sight of this pitiful situation. Too busy absorbed in my convoluted self- made mirage, of my “life’s complications.”

I then see Her captor, as he laughs & drags Her in the dirt, I see a tear fall from his eyes! Lightning hits! The fog lifts & I remember the face & voice crying “I’ve done all I can”, was mine! It was mine, & Her captor’s.

A fake. An impersonation. A facade. My voice ‘til I gave up trying. ‘till I stopped doing all I could/can to relieve Her suffering; that’s when the beast took over, convincing me something was wrong with me & didn’t need to care for my special passenger anymore. My lover. My partner in life. My queen. My piece of the king. My flame. My neshama.

*

 A pale flush. A dark burst. Dry drops of dew scatter the pitter patter of storms. A flash of white. A pure shriek. A sharp tear in the fabric of night. The crack of fire in its name of light.