I have so many thinks about how I feel today. Nothing is striking me as more than a facet of the expression of it. Thinking of that phoenix again, absolute pain beyond measure and at the same moment joyful rapture, explosion of expression without bounds, before resettling. So many things to notice at once, joy, pain, suffering, creation, destruction, which is which? Do they feel any different? Does it matter? Must I be passive? Must I act quickly? Is my help needed in the helpful word granted me in a book, in the song of unmaking, am I unmaking “I”, am I making a new “I”? lol See now looking at it this way isn’t feeling quite so heavy, but in a minute I might be back writing in flame wishing escape instead of dancing with it.
There–Purple Profundity: Poetry by Elisabeth Connelley (relating to Creative Every Day 2011, January Cosmos Theme)
in the night
scrambling to scream
arms, and legs
–by Elisabeth Connelley
A Story, for Kathy
Here is a story:
Once upon a time, there was a man, oh and a woman
[this should tell you something immediately, unless it tells you the wrong thing]
the man was himself, the woman was herself–happily and gloriously so.
In fact, it took several years for the woman to even believe that the man truly did enjoy, experience, and accept even her worst fanged fits.
True, the man had his own fits. The woman watched these, sometimes with comments, sometimes with the woman managing them silently, and many many other times the woman simply observed learning about him.
The man asked about the woman’s dreams and desires and allowed her plenty of space to express them with smiles and promises to meet as many of them as he was able. I might add, as with all communications, that there were certainly correct and incorrect assumptions made about the level of importance of each item. But for the most part for a very long time the man and the woman talked about everything and thus, knowledge about what was really going in passed between them evenly. This process allowed for the man’s need for control, which the woman noted cautiously but consented as long as needs were being met…it seemed such a small concession for the exchange.
Then one day, it seemed one day though it had been happening a little chip at a time, the man asked about the woman’s desires and laughed a wicked laugh inside his heart. He thrilled at the power to withhold from himself that which he needed most from the woman, and inflicted that upon her. As his power was in his anger, he became more angry at not gaining what he needed and imposed further restrictions upon the woman’s ability to provide them.
The woman was confused and became uncertain and stopped expressing herself. She sat and she filtered through all of her observations, her wisdom, and her knowing. She went deep down inside herself, past her inner flame, into the deep inner pool of cool clear water to wash herself clean and to gather again.
The end, or another most excellent beginning!