Monday, 6 May 2013

Time is not linear

It comes and it goes.  Water travels upward, I have traced its meandering ascent with my finger. I have been upon a journey of great distance and yet, have moved so very little. Time, I have discovered is not linear, does not follow the rules expected, rules learnt from books.

Symmetry, reality, love, are obscured concepts soaring unhinged from your own mentality. Gravity has had its wicked way with me, then unleashed me form its tormented grasp. Fingers unfurling to reveal the presence of light within its palm. My milk sickly sweet, turned in the heat of self-reflection, the masts of ships coming toward the harbour wavered in the rising heat. My body was burning.

Metamorphosis, transmigration, call it what you will.
This is the final voyage, and the very first. Time is not linear.

My arms will feel unbearably empty without you clasped in them; the rhythm of the world is now dictated by the turning of the axis. I shall inhale your last breathe before me and hold it tender in the darkest corner of my lungs. Breathing then, from here until our future selves convene, only shallowly.  This is a lie and then it is not. For I see the frown burrowing across your brow being sown with seeds of displeasure. It is only you I hold internally, the demons have long since dispersed. My own self-administered antibiotic holds back infection. Yes, I will always be a carrier of disease, but this is the beauty of acceptance. I have laid down the cosmic burden, Zeus holds no favour or power in the court of my biology. Matter or maker I cannot say, he is dead and this all we need know of him.

Even God’s fall from heaven to lay upon a pyre, dried leaves a death bed.

There is sunlight cascading down upon my flesh no matter the time of day, it slips through drawn curtains in the thick dead of night to touch me. This is my destiny. We have foretold it in this very room.  Now let our prophecy live beyond the stars, reaching down to the folds of fields and woods, across the lake I see from my bedroom window. My future sleeps deeply next to me when I wake, dreaming, delirious with a hunger I cannot abate but feed willingly. The past and present rests her reddened head across the way, singing her songs of learning as her eyes heavy with sleep open to take in the light of another day. As the night descends she counts the stars upon the darkened ceiling of her world. Points with growing fingers to her own constellation.

Cherry blossom lines the path to be travelled, walked bare footed, for it is the only way to know the ground with certainty. My body changes with the mastering of knowing where to step and where to stand. I have grown, fallen back to infancy and grown again. Womanhood, clings to my bones with its curve and lunar effusion.  Fear of death does not haunt my womb, unseeded, it is the way.  Acceptance rests easily upon the device of my passion. Yes I can plot across my body the written declarations of  independence, signed, woven with sealing wax and plasma. Kiss me, not as a lover but as a giver of life, we are two souls entwined. Taste the freedom that spills as the dawn crests upon the shimmering water. I shall continue to sail, to plot out time and freedom but no longer with bailing bucket.

My body has learnt to leave itself ashore as I depart upon my explorations, to remain anchored, as my foothold to this life. I have stopped feeding myself the lies, they hold no nutritional value. I have laid down my weapon of brutality. Come, call me with your ragged sails and compass, come and sing me to the sea. We shall navigate together, equally over the great vastness of life. . Yes, time is not linear but this is our truth.

Copyright: Samantha Ledger 2013


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