The world in all its insanity has grown a certain silence amidst chaos. If you listen it’s there distinctly: Vacancy. God has escaped us.
I feel the chill of my skin-aware on a dark morning, sky trying to merge into itself, attempting to revive so many empty eyes, old and young, the collective aching bones and weary hearts.
We’ve driven out the light of grace for ego. Now you are my God, and I am yours – our only hope.
Oh the stories we tell to save ourselves, pretend: We are not afraid… I am not afraid… Like children lost in the woods.
The things we teach as truth to encourage fortitude that we might reach a means to an end follow crumbs, not to be at that fork of realization in the road alone. Only that profound emptiness is the only truth, and we must meet ourselves there eventually.
The only freedom that exists is to come eye to eye with your soul. Cut it like wood, an exposed nerve, and let it bleed to full exposure. Every drop of cruel ugliness, bits of purity trapped alive in the mix. Love it all like a star sets fire to the sky, until you can scream: I don’t feel anything anymore!
Then you can fall through the vortex of time. Feel the vibration of blood circulating throughout the world, and the loud gong of the universe reverberating in every cell.
Forgive it all — bring God back to life. Together become heroes.
Maria Pisciotta-DellaPorte ©2017 All Rights Reserved
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