even now

It’s the gods who keep disappearing. If it’s me. I grasp at one and its gone. I watch the darkness seeping through the branches of the tree as the light rises. The transparent wind, the soft emptiness of nothing. Sheer black, the god with no wings. This tree. I sit on it’s branches looking back at myself inside. Praying. To a god, another god. Leaving this body, Venus is as bright as a halo perched on a black bird. There is contrast but nothing concrete. There is meaning but nothing visible. This vanishing light through my arms. Because I was here as the morning shook us free from our slumber. I cling to the roots of god, all I know. And here I sit, nothing. Heavy grays fight the sun. But he will rise from the dead and conquer us all. But I will not sleep until my new light returns. Dead leaves below me, vacuous clouds hang low. I grasp at shadows of gods in my thoughts. I penetrate prayers as the bird watches for the scurry of food. I live here and am not of this clamor of thieves. Taking everything. Broken branch. I, without wings shall someday fly to the top. No god. No empty vessel. No whisper of song. Only this, memory watching night fade to a new dream of birth.

You are merely a phantom. I know and yet I keep writing to you. For years you have come and gone. I spill myself like fresh blood on a page until you form a new body in my mind. I look for you in the sky every morning, I watch for you in the midnight tree just outside my barren window. I have nothing to say, you know this. They’re all gone, just a piece of that night. We spent waiting and listening for answers. These gods are a schism. There is always a new way to write the same pain I feel, I think it’s me. Inside. You ask where does it come from. Your pain body, why is it so large you ask. Because I am made of the places gods won’t go. Because they put me here to pull the words together with tears. Because I am a pastime, an experiment in suffering. Can a new light be formed from a dying flame. Up in the tree one bird asks another. Those birds, little black chattering feathered beasts sit on my sloping shoulders. I am inside this place. I am everywhere. Pointing and shrieking. Rising and falling. Breathing wind rib cage. Smoldering burried heart. The gods have all died, inside me and risen. I imagine as the devil fell. That night into the trees. I see what goes on in my sleep, the bodiless realm of flesh aching to be seen, for what it is. Felt for how death reaches, into us wth wings of sunlight spreading. Into a new world, an understanding of how this all sounds. My dark imagination defining me. My body growing old. The gods I once slept with have left me for a younger beauty. This world will take your feathers when you aren’t watching and drag you into a room where you aren’t a part of the picture anymore. Just a word ripped out of a page, just a chest moving up and down, pretending to listen, pretending to care. But I am not alone where I have been left. I hear the astral howl. I feel the tentacles of the moon as she cries to be seen. The shadow animals here are wild and hungry. I could say they themselves are the disappearing gods as night releases the morning from it’s womb, but I would be lying. They themselves are me feeding upon my dead and gone. Roaming my inner sanctum for food. Filling my veins with primal torment. Because nobody, not even them, found the moon last night.

Where I left her, little child all alone in this death that was so quiet, it’s as though he never came at all…

and that was me, all gone to the wind and creation. Taken by a storm that was not even real. Ignored by you. Undiscovered by god. God wasn’t anything but a blanket covering the dawn, with an artificial light in our head. Telling me I could be more than what lies beneath it all.

She is the empty alone I feel. There is no she, that’s all over. A long goodbye was my life until it passed like a cloud from the valley I sat in. A tree with these roots that I could not dig up. As sharp and as violent as hell. A bird, two birds up in my head lying and spreading rumors. And then there was you, a silver spectacular god. So deep I could not see, only feel the light touching itself as if anything were possible…even now.

Sharada Devi

9 thoughts on “even now”

  1. Black howling prayers
    disappear
    like wings in
    like branches
    in deeply rooted trees.
    God plants souls
    writing wills
    of the heart.
    Caring for the Future
    Guided..
    YOU
    ARE
    THAT
    deeply rooted tree.
    UN igonored
    RE-membered by ALL.
    Do NOT forget
    YOUR POWER.

    1. Do you REALLY THINK – I need a pep talk?
      that’s what this is? Do you think if that’s true- these words of yours will help me-? because you’ve said them a lot and here I am…still crying out for help…

      like I’m lost, so lost…even now-

      I use a blog to build myself bigger- ? Hopefully one day?

      because I can approve or not approve of the insanity, including my own. ???

  2. Black howling prayers
    disappear
    like wings in
    like branches
    in deeply rooted trees.
    God plants souls
    writing wills
    of the heart.
    Caring for the Future
    Guided..
    I
    AM
    THAT
    deeply rooted tree.
    UN igonored
    RE-membered by ALL.
    Do NOT forget
    MY POWER.

  3. At the hospital thinking about all the training you and baba have given to me. Yesterday my niece passed away. She was 4 years old.. after an 8 month battle with brain cancer and complications from surgeries she left her body around 6pm. At the same time with her in the hospital the breathing tunes were taken out my wife had to get to plates put in her leg with 6 pins and bone graft on her tibia. We were in a near death car accident on Monday a tractor trailer pulled in front of us and the car hit a patch of black ice in pretty sure the truck hit our car but he didn’t stop we fishtailed for 400ft into a patch of woods. A higher source had a egg of protection over my daughter who was only injured by the seat belt made her chest sore but she is back at school dance and acting classes already. My right side is messed up but not like my wife’s I feel terrible as the driver, but I know it’s all for a reason and the hurdles to make it down to this little girls funeral on a full moon lunar eclipse Sunday and Monday service with 12-20 inches of snow storm in between us coming in on Sunday a totalled car, I want to say thank you for all the training. I feel focused and strong for my family. Thank you so much love you both so much. I know things don’t always work out in a comfortable way at first but the birthing process is messy and painful. Thank you. Om mani padme hum

    1. you’re so funny Brett,
      I think you have a lot to say,
      maybe you do it through music…

      You should to come to the retreat in May ❤️ it’s going to be OUT OF THIS WORLD💫

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