The Sun has been stabbed again in the middle of the night. Why is it that I am so attracted to her suffering as she bleeds out. Am I Twisted if I yearn to capture it, only to view her pain again.
Maybe this isn't pain. Maybe all deaths are actually this Beautiful.
Is Beauty pleasure - Did you find pleasure in viewing her guts puddled above?
Then what is pain?
Pain is living in fear.
Fear is the absence of Freedom.
Free yourself from Fear.
How?
Love your rising and your falling.
Love your many births and several deaths.
When you bleed, admire the colors. When you scream, notice the tones.
In the touch of another human's lips to yours, give note to the dancing gypsies above your navel. When you gaze, narrow in for more than a second and pause to seek the depth.
I was in the middle of savasana a mere 14 minutes ago when a photon hit me - she spoke to something inside that may perhaps, provide a response.
The Sun
Written by Light
I die at dawn and again at dusk.
I am exposed and vulnerable here as pour myself over you.
I expose my true colors.
My revelations are quick at best and yes deeply romantic.
You grab for your capture and I am soon gone.
But you won't forget.
Be with me, Rise with me.
Allow me to leave and know I will die again in your gaze.
But I am here.
I want to die.
I am still here.
Born again.
I too seek murder in the views I have given myself.
When you capture me, you keep me stuck.
That is not me anymore.
You become attached but I am different.
I may not even show up at the same time.
There is no time.
Drop your capturing and simply gaze.
Admire my colors.
Scream at me in the mountains.
Feel the warmth of my touch on your skin allowing yourself to be penetrated by my depth.
I am pleasure, but I am also in pain.
My many deaths bring me closer to my Freedom.
Free of Fear
and in Love.
Sea Empathy.
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