My Writings

The Great Summer

I remember visions of a dark and murky field, unfamiliar. Heavy with danger, cold, a haze as thick as milk, drowning the world in darkness. I remember cutting through it with great difficulty, nursed in a cradle of unease, as one runs in a dream – paralyzed, as the beast draws nearer.

I have cut a path through the fog, I split it in half. Separated from the cold, the dark became warmer, softer, calmer – like a mother’s embrace. The morning dew, in droplets of ink, in the absence of Morn, poisoned the earth in its desperation. Then I brought the Sun into the underworld.

Now a field of light, the shadows were chased away. Beautiful emptiness. Wild, green life, rich, trees perfectly placed, growing into a beautiful horizon, a fence against the evils beyond. Dry summer grass, singing the song of the Great Summer of my life. The river of adolescence dried out, but the trees retain its water, in the soil of my days.

I have come back to learn, and what I have seen is bitterly painful. I have only learned to speak, but what have I said? What have I done? Inaction and indecision – the twin strands of poison ivy, still hold my garden in a choking grasp. Move. Life pushes my chest and I lose balance. Move.

In the deepest cave, in the cover of darkness, reject calm. Always remain vigilant, wake up your dying instincts. Fearlessly enter the river, in winter, for your own sake. Prove to yourself that you are ready, as you breathe heavily, your face burning with the warmest Blood, your eyes filled with the greatest Life.

Remember where you come from. Remember the promises you have made to yourself.

Then fulfil those promises.


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