|
By bp Date: 2001 Nov 25 Comment on this Work [[2001.11.25.22.01.11378]] |
|
The way at certain times I feel my hopes, my life, my only goals take wing to mental fantacies and soar, high above the scarred and tortured reality to which I awaken each day. Alone now, I feel the excitement from the magnitude with which my giant brown winged chariot carries me on an odyssey seen only through my mind's eye. And as I look out across the broad massive expanse of one wing alone, dwarfed by even a solitary feather, I feel the security of my mental fortress. Before me lies the horizon of life, a life in which the sun is slowly waning toward the west, oh God let this vehicle of mine catch just the traces of twilight and hold them. Many times I've flown and many times found release and gently glided to a soft landing in slumber; sheltered in that darkened void until awakened by the harsh light of day and only then to realize that my journey had safely ended. The light of life is real, yet the dusky light of evening with its twilight softness rounding off the sharp edges of my loneliness is what I must cling to. And to this light I fly. One day soon the sun will set completely, and I on my final voyage will streak into the darkness, crashing into the inevitable moutain of death. Leaving not the traces of sight or sound, but just the absense of a person so wrapped up in his own loneliness that he couldn't see the true light and love of those around him...... |