Transforming

Touch, translucent, delicate, and sparse, awareness fleeting and fragile Treasure of treasures Lo and Mark, seeker born quick and agile Peripheral only, inward glancing, laughter at clumsy gestures of life a silhouette dancing around, and beyond, the point of life’s sharpest knife. I am a dalliance at your disposal, significant only in ego’s arousal, clinging to fringes as bee’s to aroma, cracking like mud in the heat of the day. Unyielding struggle to reach the return, hasten the kiss of the flame without burn. Feel, yet not touch - deliver, yet stay, becoming both twilight and dawn of the day. Bring me my head and deliver my heart, cast not an ending from out which to start. I have felt burst and bewilderment channeled, danced ever close to the mist of the morn I have been dazed in the blindness of passion and from this I now have been born. Endless longing, deepest ache, glimpse of glory, crack of strife. I, who have held the briefest story, lay baffled and bleeding on the grounds of my life. A place without struggle no silence or pain, between birth of religion and thought before stain, where feelings of affectations cry false, and feelings of coarseness disdain, where feelings priori shadowed and subtle give birth to the lie egos feign. There is no lie in the light that is life, for the dark who without is true; the meaning of struggle and search for rebirth is the silence becoming you.