Transforming Histories

Touch, translucent, delicate and sparse, Awareness fleeting and fragile; Treasure of treasures, Lo and mark, Seeker born quick and agile. Peripheral only, inward glancing, Laughing at clumsy gestures of life. Around, yet beyond, in silhouette dancing Coalescing at times into strife. I, but a dalliance at your disposal, Significant only in ego's arousal; Clinging to fringes as bee's to aroma, Dancing as mules in the heat of the day. Unyielding the struggle to reach the return, Hasten the kiss of the flame without burn. Feel; yet not touch - deliver; yet stay. Become both the twilight and dawn of the day. Bring me my head and deliver my heart, Cast not the ending from out which my start. I have found burst and bewilderment channeled, I have danced ever in mists of the morn. I have been dazed in the blindness of passion, And from this, I now have been torn. Endless longing, deepest ache, For glimpse of glory in the crack of life, I, who have held, the briefest of story, Lay baffled and bleeding on the grounds of my life. A place without struggle between silence and pain, Tween the birth of religion, and thought before stain, Where feelings of affections cry false And the 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 knows what is true. The meaning of struggle and search for rebirth, Is your Shadow becoming You.