Monday, August 22, 2005
FAITHLESS??
"No, not now" he slowly, quietly replied, rather under his breath.
"Come" she quietly insisted, beckoning him in a tone similar to cattails on a meadow brushing gently in the breeze.
No, no, I cant…. Not now….
Oh but the opportunity to be with her – her gentle way – her quiet way. To lay securely there in her comforting arms!
The current situation was now unbearable.
The alone-ness The un-salve-able agony of alone-ness.
Among the family…the friends….the shallow mix of politeness and requisite interaction. The fragile balance between gaiety and truth. The uncomfortable compromise.
And then the anger – The Angry One – the anger of unsubstantiated dreams. The continuing disenchantment of the Angry One toward The Accused One, more aptly, the "guilty one".
The unrelenting accusations of the The Angry One – unwarranted, hypercritical, constant.
The unrelenting alienation and frustration of The Accused One.
And again, simply the prospect of leaving The Angry One succeeded in quieting all the critical remarks, the eternal blame, and created moments of peace – created, even more largely, the prospect of peace.
In those moments of calm he then could hear her delicately say,
"Leave The Angry One. Come with me"
And in his mind the volume of the acrimony, of the litany of the explicit failures, the list of the implied failures – today’s, yesterday’s, tomorrow’s - was somehow serenely ushered away.
He questioned himself again. Could real happiness lay within the margins of compliance? of vanquished cooperation?
No, he had failed at that.
Vivid colors sent back through a prism retain their single white light.
A positive viewed thru the lens in reverse has no color: no life – no function – no value.
No, any attempt had been viewed as incomplete, inconsequential, irrelevant.
And again she called ….softer but intractable now, as if she felt his very soul.
"Come now"
And the sadness in his heart collapsed into a nothingness, all the grandness of his imagination, all the broadness of his love, all the tenderness of his touch collapsed into a vacuous entity which sucked at the very nature of his being. And she called again.
He had made his choice….
"One moment" he replied, so softly though, that only God could have felt the trembling in his voice…
"One moment, and then peace!" he called out.
Her outstretched hand reached tenderly for him from the shadow of the dark shrouded robe.
(PART II SOON)
"Come" she quietly insisted, beckoning him in a tone similar to cattails on a meadow brushing gently in the breeze.
No, no, I cant…. Not now….
Oh but the opportunity to be with her – her gentle way – her quiet way. To lay securely there in her comforting arms!
The current situation was now unbearable.
The alone-ness The un-salve-able agony of alone-ness.
Among the family…the friends….the shallow mix of politeness and requisite interaction. The fragile balance between gaiety and truth. The uncomfortable compromise.
And then the anger – The Angry One – the anger of unsubstantiated dreams. The continuing disenchantment of the Angry One toward The Accused One, more aptly, the "guilty one".
The unrelenting accusations of the The Angry One – unwarranted, hypercritical, constant.
The unrelenting alienation and frustration of The Accused One.
And again, simply the prospect of leaving The Angry One succeeded in quieting all the critical remarks, the eternal blame, and created moments of peace – created, even more largely, the prospect of peace.
In those moments of calm he then could hear her delicately say,
"Leave The Angry One. Come with me"
And in his mind the volume of the acrimony, of the litany of the explicit failures, the list of the implied failures – today’s, yesterday’s, tomorrow’s - was somehow serenely ushered away.
He questioned himself again. Could real happiness lay within the margins of compliance? of vanquished cooperation?
No, he had failed at that.
Vivid colors sent back through a prism retain their single white light.
A positive viewed thru the lens in reverse has no color: no life – no function – no value.
No, any attempt had been viewed as incomplete, inconsequential, irrelevant.
And again she called ….softer but intractable now, as if she felt his very soul.
"Come now"
And the sadness in his heart collapsed into a nothingness, all the grandness of his imagination, all the broadness of his love, all the tenderness of his touch collapsed into a vacuous entity which sucked at the very nature of his being. And she called again.
He had made his choice….
"One moment" he replied, so softly though, that only God could have felt the trembling in his voice…
"One moment, and then peace!" he called out.
Her outstretched hand reached tenderly for him from the shadow of the dark shrouded robe.
(PART II SOON)
