The Sky and the Lotus Once wounded beyond her own belief, she steeled and sealed into a cocoon, a self-made shell of dormant, depressed, a seed-like sleeping armor. Even the passing of time refused her healing and re-re-re-returned her to the wound, the memory of a kiss-less existence and never fully held heart. She fell into a seed form, self-perceived safety hidden from the external world. She hid in hidden hiding even while smiling to a watching world. Seeded up, the Lotus Girl was pain embodied, never seen safely in plan sight.
Once alone within the bunkered seed, she found herself caught somewhere between the dank of shadow and the squint of light, earth and a daring dream of a denim blue sky. The lotus pod self-stuck in the muck and the empty uncertainty of love, loss, lesson and gallons of betrayed mud making tears… She a lotus seed waiting, hidden, hiding, fearing and hoping to forget, to forget what she never learned to remember.
She hid beneath the heavy weighted waiting of the muck, wearing her muddied stains as shame.
The Lotus Girl, the me in she, feared a crack in seed and shell, so she, as me, held fast to darkness, half awake-ness, and frozen self of anchored indecision, an always barely there readiness to leave the deep thick darkness for the full-of-fear-fearless adventure of attempting to be seen in something other than her sleeping fantasies of a love of sky that blue-began in only the seams of dreams.
Dormancy in the squeezed space inside she masked her courage to bloom and see the real as real. Understanding that the real beyond the hidden might be joyous, well lit and beloved, most likely wasn’t, and otherwise and most certainly unruly pain, a repeated agony that she was unable to endure.
Depression became her only comfort, solitude and sadness her comfortable-uncomfortable, locked tight, patterns of an ever unreal, inner world safe from betrayal, half-loves, and the ever edges of endings before beginnings ever began.
In even the most persistent itches of occasional wanting, she chose a near permanence of waiting. She over looked the secret promises and dream images of a sun and source and sky… safe she remained with time flying past, sitting in her shell, waiting for the story to never reveal a new story of anything beyond a fear of past.
Deep below any potential risk, even from bright transforming noons and glorious temporal sunsets and any real rises and falls of days into the courage of the nights, she chose to un-choose and simply sit quiet and shaking in herself.
In an accidental lightning strike, she cracked and cried and smiled. Inside, at first she strained to press against the light. But the eyes of light itself, through her cracks in herself she saw a once only dreamed of denim blue sky hope, a sky that immediately, lovingly, longingly called her forth and promised himself, his broad horizon and love forever.
Her mystic cleaving to his shine held no hope of going back, of re-confining into the seed. The fear, the doubt and uncertainty melted the mud around her breaks with the kisses of sky himself. The sun found her broken, open heart alive, sent the roots into the soil and a rising, blooming blossom forth.
She grew. It hurt.
She grew. It stopped in a sudden vacancy of pain.
She grew. She learned that love itself holds no bounds.
She grew. She learned that love does not hurt.
She grows. She grows. The sky he smiles, the lines around his smiling eyes of sun show her to know that light no longer stings and the truth himself rings and sings into her heart a fullness that perfumes her heart aloft, alive. What she dreamed and tried to never see is now cast from above to even her deepest shames below.
The sky, his light, his seemingly dreaming words beg her never to go, to remain his precious forever, his beloved space between above and below. Even his shimmering shadowed sleep holds her warmly and promises to ever to believe and he himself to never leave.
Once seen, by no one else but herself, he the true sky of love sees her bloom and open to him completely from soil to sun. She is seen beyond the dreams she barely, even never dared… her life completely won… the love, the wanting, the no longer dream or waiting of the denim sky and lotus she.