My Writings

Curiosity and Bewilderment

Artwork: Calypso Noximera

Deep in the crevices of the world, close enough to its core that I can hear its heartbeat, drowned in thick fumes of black, I find you. If I had not felt the warm, flowing embrace of water at my feet, I would not have known that I have stepped into a river. I do not understand, but I trust that you will reveal the meaning of this when the time comes.

You wait on the other side, seemingly motionless, but I can feel your movements. I emulate them. To the observer it may appear that I am only raising a hand and lowering the other, but I feel that I am lifting the entirety of the world whilst calming it down. Why have you taken me here?

And then I find that the river, it springs from my eyes. Down on my knees, holding your banner, I look down at the water washing at the shores of your blessed feet and I discover that I cannot free my gaze from this sight. Here it will rest, quietly trembling in your Presence, fueling me with strength. I am immortal.

In a garden of emptiness and snow, at a time when the surface of the world vibrates ever less and life appears oppressed by the fading strength of the sun, I burn. I do not belong here and my body appears to understand it. My eyes on you, fire is fed into my soul through their gate, the fire conceive with each contraction of your burning heart.

I am free and above the laws of the world for as long as I can hold you in my sight. Distraction rumbles underneath the skin. I hear it calling like the young scream for their mother in a nest of warmth. But I will not feed it, lest my feathers burn and I draw inspiration from Icarus’ fate.

No. I will let you carry me over the still and quiet woods. Far above life, I can still smell it sprawling underneath – the smell of fungal overgrowth, the distant thump of hoofs unseen, nature going down its path, yet another time, under the sun.

You are the Sun. I find myself spiraling around you, following your flight through time-space. To say that your march onwards is inspiring would fail to recreate its grandeur, but I find an innate need to emulate it.

In time, I will learn to mimic your movements.

In imitating you, I will convince myself that I am becoming more like you.

Then, perhaps, I will truly have the chance to come closer to you.

I will sneak, like a child, into your temple, where I have seen you alone in quiet contemplation, and look through your lenses. To see the world as you see it – time and space, life, death, the thick and thin blood, the cry and the whisper, the beggar and the king, the promise of immortality and the cunning plague.

I trust that, when my mind collapses under its own weight, crushed by the sheer size of the vision, you will come and save me. I believe that you had left the door unlocked, knowing that I would come seeking answers.

If not, let me burn.

I would rather die making a single step towards you than leading a life of stagnation.

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