Friday, April 24, 2009

a musing after a plane broke through the pink sky

We are so confused in our places and illusions.
Caves are our bodies. We crawl into them, trying to fill our spots in life, the good friend, mother, lover. Trying to reflect as much light in them instead of letting too much darkness bounce against the rough edges and overwhelm the corners.
We hide our secrets in the deepest parts of our caves. Sometimes burying them a bit with dirt so that we don’t see them all the time or putting a twig right on top so we never forgot the worst ones.
You cannot keep it all within your cave though darling, or else every time you are overwhelmed it just bounces back and you’re shouting at yourself. So listen to me when I whisper, “when passion drives you to moments of overt emotion, crawl and crawl to where your cave meets the world and shout it out.”
We will yell so loudly we will mark the sky
and in that moment we feel a little less alone.

Im not sure how much I like this and I also feel Im ripping of Plato a tad. But oh well, its a friday night musing.


Erik Siegrist said...

Plato didn't invent caves, you know. They were around for a couple of years before he wrote about one.

gracious said...

where is the 'like' button?