Liberation of Imagination
Inside shared skin the night is awake, the rivers curve and the hills roll in, we’re laughing as the light rain textures our hair, we’re running with the pack against nodding emerald grasslands.
Everything is deep strings, winding quartets, glistening like diamonds in our eyes from our lips to the sea.
There’s something magical about this love, this union, this family, this land, this dream. My soul enchants my veins luminous.
I can let go when she speaks with wildered joy and dancing feet.
Beneath my toes, the soil is drumming. I can taste creation. The heat in my body centers, then release. Flows into rhythm, harnessing the wisdom of many suns ago, re-layering our earth for the second symphony.
So the song begins.
Inspired from a dream - Melody Aminian
Portal
I know you’ve tired
of contention
and confusion
Now you come seeking shelter
in something greater
One touch, I become your
portal to promiselands
This was the assignment
But I too am tiring
Only music can quicken
the fatigue of my fatalities
One choir, can you be my peace?
When there’s no direction
and the haze is thick
I turn within
Devotionals of deep sighs
and silent eyes
Kneel me down to hear
reverberations of cells
Potential of life
Will I take it there?
Into existence.
Voice coming
Clawing the dirt.
giving in.
unearthing Her.
renounced.
over-possessed.
Voice coming.
becoming Her.
I Pray
Everyday I pray
Not to any god or idol
I pray to be
Worthy of the muses
That I become as
I was meant for
That my task is
Undertaking
My words initiating
My body connecting
My heart threading
That my life has
Spoken to the
Volume it should
Every moment
I pray I am worthy
Of the muses
Pass or Fail
Pain comes for me this morning and stays in the evening, the slow ache of dying, but no death (no peace).
Canceling my plans. Losing my focus. Paralyzing my body. Wasting my hours. Distracting my purpose. The torture of dying, but no death.
Who knows how it’s triggered? It’s a relentless, cryptic demon who screams inside my clenched teeth. Conquered by loops, I waste. Mazed.
Dark in the day. Revealing in shadows. Stretching towards me.
Will I spend eternity dying or will I prevail in health? What is it that will make me stronger? Lighter? Euphoric?
Who decides? Pass or fail.
These last thoughts, I ponder for myself.
It’s easy to feel. It’s easy to write these words. Can eloquence of self be an exchange for wealth? Will it steed my prophecy?
There’s no assured self left to borrow. I’ll have to compose myself.
But I’m sick and I need your chalice to shift the power. Bring my words to brothing water. Loosen my throat.
Mend it and begin the song. Provide the theater of life’s motifs.
Would I live by my desire? Will I hear them drum?
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