Descended from a dark space

Personal poetry blog. I like to experiment, feedback is always appreciated :)

[fromadarkspace]

Knowledge

A field of vision glowing through the entire darkness. A cone of light searching relentlessly. Finding shapes and symbols, hidden in the sinister veil of the night. Touching with it's eyes, tasting the sweet scent of a morning that never comes.

Running the engine. Connecting the dots, making sense. Only to get lost in a larger scheme. The question of knowledge and the question of truth. Hanging over our heads in opposition and building a system of everything inside us. Everything that we strive to put outside. As real as it gets. And as factual as it gets. As what we make our measuring stick of the world, what is meant to be equal for all of us, ultimately comes down to the inborn power of emotions. It comes down to the value of being human.

[fromadarkspace]

Resistance

A feeling approaching from far away. Like a lost memory, echoing the sounds you loved in days long gone. It passes by. Like a message hidden in smoke, carried by the strong winds driving the day forward. It playfully lifts the long hair you have been growing recently. In an unusual pattern, one that seems just right, unlike the unjust scatter that has been around before.

Nothing escapes as you gaze over the wide wasteland. Nothing escapes the power at hand, lying hidden beyond the dust that tires our eyes. Yet you see through, yet you take the next step. Seeming like a step on a treadmill, hopeless and yet you know. You know with a profound certainty. Know that only opposition creates friction on a slippery path. Know that only resistance has the power to create.

[fromadarkspace]

Roots

Graceful. Rising like the water in a branch, as green as the forest in which it resides. Alive. Breathing, together with all the others. Giving a possibility to this world to continue, to carry on, to resist the mortality of this moment. To flourish into a strong trunk, supporting the trees that build the foundation of this world. Reaching higher and higher towards the sky, creating a distance to the roots as we are reaching for all the things we can not understand.

And eventually we will take off on our wings and take flight. As we are embraced by a much stronger wind. One which can not be resisted, one which will shake all of our foundations. As we grasp the sun we may remember those roots. The ones which gave us meaning. The ones breathing the air which we take flight on.

[fromadarkspace]

Claw

Fingers floating in the air. A hand wide open. Tense, almost like a claw it displays the full force of it's muscles. Patiently waiting without a movement.

And then the moment comes. A moment when the hand dashes forward. Clenching a fist with all of it's might. Trying to grab, trying to hold. Plunging into the dust like a bird of prey. Relentlessly.

What it meets is a ball of light. Like water and air, like fire and dust. Dashing towards every side. Fleeing from unity in the denial of outside force. Taking the decision to be alone, to defy the government of brute force. Leaving a shattered space, leaving a dark space.

[fromadarkspace]

Wind

At times a gentle breeze, at times a storm raging over our heads. Bringing clouds, bringing thunder. Bringing rain. So often acting as an invisible force. Scratching dead branches like claws over this flat cold surface. Whipping in the shadows of grey clouds that create a space for this cemetery. Stones with inscriptions. Inscriptions of those who love, those who believe, those who trust. And of those who left. Left with a final verdict, not to be walking among those who were dearest to them ever again.

Their steps seem to float. Not touching the ground, as their elegance imprints on our daily breaths. And they bring about a different day. A day to choose, a day to live. A day commenced in a wind of change.

[fromadarkspace]

Throne

Times come and times go. And just what is persists. Not it's story, not it's assets but a silhouette, a symbol which outlives thousands of generations. It seems to rule time without power. A charming and gentle breeze to strike the edges into our castle of glass. It sets the boundaries in an open world, it empowers the most lively debate within it's frontiers and reinforces the system. A system of endless possibilities. A seat for the king of this world and all those that may eventually come into existence.

[fromadarkspace]

Snow

Falling silently. Like a cold gift from the heavens. Hesitant, almost unreal at first, it gently comes into existence. Sometimes it comes to stay. Accumulating into the wildest shapes. Figures, walls, people. The air filled with laughter and joy. Creating an atmosphere of creation, one that so often dies when light overturns the darkness, when reality is shed on the worlds of wonder hiding in our closets. But not here.

All the light reflected back to where it came from. All the problems we might see covered in a white blanket. Just for a few days, to connect with what we left behind. Childhood memories and dreams of wonder.

[fromadarkspace]

One

One to speak. One to listen. One to unite the mind, yet two sides in dialogue. The one who rises in spontaneity with the one who thinks and processes. The one who feels with the one that pushes through. They are united in you, united by a strange connection. One that is not limited to physicality, but the space in which existence becomes possible. The space where all aspects meet, negotiating with strong or silent voices. A network that sometimes seems to defy all reason. A party drawing all parts together. Connecting them into something. Something called me.

[fromadarkspace]

Dandelion

Blooming. Driven by a hidden force to grow. Slowly yet steadily until the day comes. A day when you shine as bright as the sun. A thousand arms of light and fire, guiding their way towards the light and our way to a moment that lasts. Giving us the spark of a happy day. A day of scent, beauty and life.

The day passes and as we rember you in a joyful memory, your colors fade. The radiant blossom closing once more. Feeling like going back. Back to a seed merely forming a sprout. And as you unfold we see a different beauty. The white wisdom of your days. Patiently waiting. Waiting for the wind to spread what you want to give. A legacy and a purpose. For yet another day to shine and for life to carry on. Carry on with warming hearts and painting laughter.

[fromadarkspace]

Sound II

Sound. A perception, screaming gently. As it touches the depths of the soul and reminds us. Reminds us of what has been, reminds us of what will eventually be again. Like the chirp of a bird, promising the arrival of green meadows, of warm sun light and bright laughter. Brought to life by those enjoying their moment. It's just a moment away, as everything seems to be when we remain patient.

In essence the time has already come. As it has never turned away. Ever present, inside.

[fromadarkspace]

Present

A place where we go and a place where we come from. From darkness to darkness. Feeling as a dimmed ray of light with the impression of memory. Nothing but the present to draw from. Presenting a chance. Passing this present from hand to hand. A gift to be perceived. Silently. In the manner consciousness wraps all of us.

[fromadarkspace]

Shadow

Passing by. A glimpse of eternity, yet so volatile that it barely seems to exist at all. A game of light and darkness that adds up to our stories, that tells our truths and manifests our meaning. Sometimes, it reveals more of itself. Of what is to come and might be. A mirage of imagination, just inside this small range that we might eventually grasp.

It is all that exists. This fleeting moment. This shadow of the present.

[fromadarkspace]

Darkness III

Can you see it? Dimly falling through the window it feels like a reflection of pure darkness. Darkness that was lost and ceased to exist. Like in a tale forgotten so long ago. Yet it is so present. Present because it is absent. A state of mind that poses a new opportunity. An opportunity to create. Create something out of nothing as a matter of oppostional existence.

It is a small hint of darkness that makes the light bearable. More than that. It creates it's existence. An existence of opposed equilibrium, a tug of war of realities. A reality where darkness shines brighter than light. A reality imposed by the human mind.

[fromadarkspace]

Shoes

There they are. Waiting patiently. Just a step away from the door, where you left them after your last journey. They have seen a lot. They have served a lot. With their astonishing ability to secure your step with the simple grip of those brown laces. A grip around worn cloth and used leather. Yet grasping for more, grasping to see.

When will you take them on another walk? When will they see the face of a new earth? It just takes a small step to commence and often times not even a physical one.

[fromadarkspace]

Garden

Have you seen? It is that time of the year again. A time when beauty blossoms outside, a time to sow new seeds, for the treasures of summer to grow. Taking a look outside provides a clear view. See the frontiers of your little world, marked by wooden poles and a small fence, surrounding a terrain of freshly plowed earth. Your garden is ready, ready for you to pull up your sleeves and lose yourself in a process. A process of fertilizing and watering, a process of watching, caring and understanding. A process of taking patient action to grow what you set out to grow, to make your garden rich of fruit and colours. It is your labor you harvest, accompanied by the wildflowers of fate. Beauty you are more than willing to enjoy, even if it is outside of your control.

As the year goes by and your garden progresses you may turn back inside from time to time. Just to realize that there is another garden waiting to be grown. A garden of friendship, a garden of love and connection. A garden with a multitude of different seeds to be taken care of. Some may grow, some may not and the more you try, the more you learn how to take care of your plants. Sometimes winter comes. Sometimes your garden may look like every single plant you have ever grown has died. Now the time has come. A time to set out to the world beyond. Discovering new seeds to plant, as you are waiting for the deepest roots to sprout again.

[fromadarkspace]

Way

We see ahead. Straight over the long flat plains. We see grass thirsting for water and lonesome trees in a world open to sight, yet embraced by a veil of dust and sand covering up the edges of the prairie.

We see paths leading forward. The one below our feet and a thousand other ones. Existing just for the touch of our step. The first as well as the last. Sometimes paths vanish as we walk and others seem to appear out of nowhere. Sometimes there is an end to the possibility of pursuit. Something your eyes can not comprehend and your mind can not grasp. Until your feet touch it. This new way you had not imagined before. This new way provided by circumstance.

[fromadarkspace]

Ghosts

Silently they are walking. Beneath us, beside us and above us. Approaching toward us, silently passing through. Without a touch, simply vanishing and reappearing, like shadows in the face of a cloud. They wander among us. Bringing a game to this life, perhaps the most joyful game our minds are longing for. A game of imagination. Building this world to which we refer to as reality. As we insist on knowing, what no one knows.

But who are we to begin with? A thousand different pictures of bodies and bones. Descriptions and images arising in the back of our heads, mindlessly without further notice. What is left if we see beyond them? A place of feeling and notice, a cloud of sensation, guided by the connections we found. In it's essence not much more as an idea, a model of reality. Walking this world as another one of those ghosts.