through distance comes a strengthening certainty,
a free flowing knowing of all the things you'd do differently.
but still,
how grateful I am for the red threads.
through the slow unravelling
the heart holds tight to it's memories
and this ever growing feeling
that has no name.
the contradictory sensation of at once
feeling both empty and yet so heavy.
of feeling new.
memories like photographs, moments
caught in time, in slices of the heart,
unpacked and smoothed out
flat on the floor.
i wonder how big the heart can grow.
if it even has edges.
because there is such a lot it holds.
and more to come.
a door on the horizon I've never seen before
gets closer as the light expands
and life grows quietly, miraculously, inside.
2 comments:
And at that ... there occurred union with the deity, union with the universe (I do not know whether there is a difference between those two worlds) ... I saw a wheel of enormous height, which was not before my eyes, or behind them, or to the sides, but everywhere at once. This Wheel was made of water, but also fire, and although I could see its boundaries, it was infinite. It was made of all things that shall be, that are, and that have been, all intertwined, and I was one of the strands within of that all-encompassing farbic, and Pedro de Alvarado, who had tortured me, was another. In it were the causes and the effects, and the mere sight of that Wheel enabled me to understand all things, without end. ~ Jorge Luis Borges, "The Writing of the God", trans. A. Hurley
Beautiful
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