Floating

Floating in a breath of cool, clear air.
Sensation hazy, clarity of meaning moving
through the very cells of flesh you are.
A freeing up. A letting go. A slow, sweet
glide into infinity.

Flunking all too many mortal tests.
Yet still you feel yourself at home just here.
In worlds invisible to mortal judgment.
Imagination. Fantasy. Other realms
than touch or taste or smell. Yet living
there, within them, dwells an essence
that includes it all within a great transcendence.

A candle glows. All spirit dwells within the natural.
Mechanical, the moving pictures seemed to weep
within you. But without you, all the essence of
their tales was left unborn. Your emotion was
the secret, after all. Incumbent in the very feel
of energy that leads to really living. The actors
strove to live the most of all. And thus the fall
became a burden they must always bare.

Fall from grace. The empty spaces
overtook them then. As they were made
to feel the other side of every great extreme
found in their success and popularity. When
was it that they'd lost themselves, for good...?

Becoming just another growing mask
of tasks the public dares to ask of them again.
Roles played were never quite laid down.
The afterglow of every show contained
another slew of ups and downs. 'Twas then
emotions slithered in, without a sense of
any more direction.

And then unknowingness set in. Even in them.
Waiting for another call to play another role.
A mob outside their door that saw them
only as an image on a screen. Sexy
and flirtatious. Ambiguous, yet all too
personal. The flux of living energy
became the rushing waves within a sea
of unforgiveness for the "I" they really
had to be - alone.

The strut became a run. The image faded.
Reaching for another sense of height within
the spinning wheels of life. Abhorring any
thing of worth that dwelt in deeper realms.
Eyes open. Then the willing not to see.
Seeking just to find some other's part
to play within reality.

The night fell hard. Recession held them
in its grip of fear. There was an angel
drawing near them, all unasked.
A mist of light. A prophecy.
Hidden in a vision of the past.
The essence of the need was love
that lasted through infinity. The kind
of love so often sought, but seldom found.

When suddenly, a dream of meant-to-be
was ushered in. Strange, the way it made
their worlds spin. And there it was.
Floating in a breath of cool, clear air.
Sensation hazy, clarity of meaning moving
through the very cells of flesh they were.
A freeing up. A letting go. A slow, sweet
glide into infinity...

? Michaelette ?

10/28/2003
Copyright© 2003 Michaelette L. Romano
All Rights Reserved
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