Swords

SOC Writing _ 8.10.21

Swords

Typically cut and sever and make two what was one - the scimitar he said divided the masculine and feminine and now this - we divide - but remain pulsating with the life and love we are - separate but together - sharper than ever - we have allowed our bloods to mingle and now our souls shell out for this lavish wedding. When we wed - we still hold our heads - loose nothing of our wild essence - and in essence give ourselves away - back to the world we come from and that need us - I’m aware the world needs me - my spark - my life, my heart, my weird quirk that pull the straggler into the feast - we both do in our own ways - want to join what has been damaged, lost, broken - join in and become one with the whole trash can of existence. This cleaving away at ourselves, betraying ourselves for love. I am in no doubt about the rightness of this path - but it is a dark path, stumbling along - until once and awhile a huge force of dark light engulfs and you know, we know, we are still good. Whoosh goes the train so close - rushing past the station with such fury - such are our lives - where do we go from here? Into nature - back to Ireland with child, children or complete the work here at Highden? I haven’t a clue but my mind cannot but buzz. And I love you still - dearer to me, and I love me - coming home to my aloneness as a ground for growth and place to stay on my true path - golly, what a ride! I’ve called for it all my life - we the fucking fearless at listening to our own wild hearts, seeking for the flavour and tenor of everything - we are rising, rising like the phoenix from ashes - I am becoming myself again - more and more like the soul I shot here as. And in the morning after the night when shape shifting has done its work - good morning love, wedded to life.