right it out on paper

Day 37 of 100 of WTFIW....F

still around
but nowhere to be found
outline not going well
have a partial, but not feeling it
and feeling is everything

hmmm.....
nothing to do except piano artwork design sketch
but maybe tomorrow
painting a painting sounds more in line
or randomly writing and hoping something comes of it

mind is numb
and nothing came from the pursuits of the aether
its been quiet
and this feels like a resting period
since downloads and input got crammed in a few days ago
this is the waiting period
and what this means is unknown
but it is welcomed and held as a needed truth

the council is gathering again, slowly
and although an interruption was made
they do not seem very accommodating
so waiting is still at the forefront
so be it

~ "You know the answers, but do you feel them?
    That is where understanding comes from." ~

ah yes.... let's grapple with these words and solve the mystery
but by letting go and allowing the mystery to be

and the mind still wants to figure out purpose
still wants to behold a reason
and all the whys
and the meaning behind serving the world
but you see....
even though this human tries to find a path it can walk...
a guide with six wings and golden trident shakes his head
and his words...
~ "Why do you think your purpose is to serve the world?
    For it is Heaven that is served."

and every path will not be able to carry these feet
and every movement may never reveal a destination
and it's no wonder that being hidden away feels like home
and this soul doesn't belong to you
and whatever you see from me
is not for you
whatever you see through me is the message
and a messenger is no one
cast your eyes away

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walking through the deep
to see what there is to find once again

an uncaring
a desire for the world to fall
to be extinguished in a moment
even all the joys and all the pains
and all the colors and all the dark
let it all be erased
there is no care here

and the sands here in the depth
they give solace
the soft texture as they move through fingers
never arguing, never complaining
these sands that move without life
like crystals too small to see
like dust in the darkness

and a great expanse lifting as high as one can see
without substance, without form
a total source of nothing
this beautiful space
that holds a soul unafraid of the deep
unafraid of the dark
let it embrace her

but all things are not true
and even if the world crumbled
and the sea raged
and the sands washed away
and the pains and the joys dissipated into the void
she couldn't tear out what was inside of her
the christ of a crucified god
and there all the colors rose with fury
and the music radiated with the sun
and all the joys and all the pains and all the inbetween
it all made love within her soul
and darkness smothered them all
and they loved it and it loved them
and that was all that was true

and how can one describe god
without describing yourself
and when the world rages
and when it falls, and when it rises
it still can't approach the kingdom within
it is nothing but a fraction of what a speck of matter can do
and if Heaven had a name
I would answer to it.