invisible warrior path
But why is it so difficult for them to understand and why do we have to keep explaining? My heart is weary.
photos by Paul Collins shot on a Hasselblad
there’s no place to stand and lean onto except my own to legs
some feathered rags making their way into the sanded realm
into the reminder of all that is excess
the weight of the ways to survive light as a feather
the sadder the eyes the harder the mind finds it to fight
and the remaining mess unsuccessfully unaddressed in the sighs outward
fear crept in at the initiation and then again at the very end
all the reasons transformed into survival of the worst kind
the suppressed mind with nowhere to go but forward
outrun ourselves through all the space necessary
and yet still no place to put all my feelings
how dare i even feel something to begin with
perhaps the lack of water was then turned into a lack of possible reflections
embedded in the river beds of a non-existing tomorrow
it’s all the very same day
loving with our deepest efforts to find what binds us again
but then the stem lends itself to be sought after and left
within the rainy part of a day that remains
stained on the ways to wrestle best
the afterlife of a thought uncovered while persisting
the trust of a seeming light
fighting through the days - the months - the years - the inevitable fear creeping in
with every mere reminder of the stifling life invading mine
the footsteps long walked over - trampled
yet still there - traces of power - all lining up to thrive again
-D.
