Human Spectrum

As a child I saw life a certain way;

The grass tickling my souls, trees making music with the wind, the sun and moon dancing as they do, and the light clouded sky full of invisible stars to witness it all.

Life was a mysterious flash of colorful stories meant for me.

Having yet to taste the darkness of man, I reveled in the spring and the fall, the blossoms and the aging of leaves, and I allowed the sun to grow in my heart.

Too soon came the age of realization and wonder lost.

Where was I? Deep in my own heart and head, blocked out by vines as strong as I thought I was; connection to All was no longer linked with my soul.

Never ending years in a betrayed fog.

Wandering just as a dandelion wish floats through the blades, I longed for the ancient threads that tied it all together, the ones that made beautiful sense in warming ways.

But that path was departed from me.

How to transcend the hurt and the shadows, when you feel as one with the hell, is a quest as impossible as it is worthy.

A choice now, decay or fight for the ember.

Hands held out felt too far to grasp, but I reached till it ached and allowed the offering of sound love to pull me from the depths.

The decision that would often be made.

Through the clouded chaos, I learned to admire the rain and the quiet of the dark; this night was made to force me toward the soldier that I could be.

And so I became.

A warrior transmuting black to white, discovering the unseen tenderness behind anger, the broken edge behind the sweet smile.

I healed as I healed others.

Visions of truth found their way to my eyes, those old cords being seen again by a new mind and the connectedness of the world and its creatures painting a sincere sight.

We are the source, and the source is love.

The shaded dullness of living will never truly disappear, but I’m beginning to feel life in a certain way again, the music and dancing a witness to our perseverance.

Life is a curious flicker of iridescent stories made by us.