Solitude

Andre Brito Photography

Within this solitude,
I have grown in ways I never knew possible.
I have delved deeper into the caverns
of each chamber
of this sacred abode
we call the Heart,
and discovered there is no end..
It is a perpetually incessant journey.

I continue to swim,
propelled through this bloodstream, ~ this heart’s dream..
my tears becoming one with the ocean
within the vessel that carries me forth.

Guided by a gentle hand, the inward immersion continues..
It is dark.. warm..
it envelopes me.
I cannot see .. rather I feel,
moving by the sight of faith.

There is safety in this sanctuary,
the guiding hand a cord,
the darkness a soothing, protective womb.

I inhale deeply —
as I hear the voice whisper:
 everything is allegory
      pain is a sculptor (it keeps us upright)
         love is a painter (his brush divinely guided)
            lust is a cello… (but what good is an instrument without a song to sing?)
and I am ecstatically transported to Tagore:
I have spent my days stringing and unstringing my instrument 
while the song I came to sing remains unsung.”

I exhale cathartically —
Releasing..

It seems an eternity between the inhale ~ and the exhale..
a lifetime between each breath.

cello
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The Deepest Scars

All your life you have been the giver,  the supporter,
the one who has to remain strong for everyone else…

And then one day a special person comes along..
And is able to see through your facade of strength;
Able to see through your “I’m fine” as his penetrating eyes gaze into yours;
Able to perfectly translate your *sigh*s.

May I hold your hand?”, he quietly asks.
When your smile shyly acquiesces,
he takes your hand and holds it with such gentle firmness..
and all your fears disappear
as the early morning mist disappears when the sun rises.

And when he takes you in his arms ~ gently encircling you ~ enveloping you in warmth;
It is akin to being submerged in deep, calm waters;
breathing serenity;
absorbing tranquility;
cocooned in a sanctuary of tenderness.

You rest your weary head upon his strong, broad shoulders…
and all the years of turmoil effortlessly melt away.

And when he kisses you ~oh, his kisses..
the world disappears.
Time stands still and nothing else matters.
You float..
you float so high,
feeling your feet may never again touch the ground.

You see, the scars that are deepest in our heart
are the ones that remain long after the pain is gone —
long after we have forgiven,
and perhaps even forgotten.

Then that one person appears, and he reaches in deep,
even deeper than those scars;
and it hurts
oh, it hurts.

He reaches in, and rips them out..
and you bleed..
and you hemorrhage..
and you break..
… purged of all your tormented past.

Yes, it is the only way to heal,
the only way to fully and completely revive,
and become whole once again.

He knows exactly what to do with the broken pieces..
how to look at you,
how to hold you,
how to kiss you,
how to soothe you.

He somehow found his way through the maze of your barricades
scaled the walls you had erected
and effortlessly tore them down.
He did not give you life, but he resurrected it after it had been asleep for so long.
And you did not know you were sleeping.

When inward tenderness finds the secret hurt, pain itself will crack the rock and Ah! Let the soul emerge.” ~ Rumi