Sometimes we shift almost cataclysmically when events yank our worlds, without apology, from beneath. When we are sent spiraling into that shadowy place — a nook that some fold into unwittingly, addicted. Frequently, we shift subtly, bend intentionally, and struggle hopelessly in response to Life. Eventually, we may evolve to a point where instead of shifting to accommodate, please, or seek, we peacefully return to our most beautiful and natural state, choosing to be nothing more and nothing less than ourselves.
Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.
In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.
Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds, and shall find, me unafraid.
It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll.
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.
“How can we remember our ignorance, which our growth requires, when we are using our knowledge all the time?” –Henry David Thoreau
the world is tired also.
no part of the world can find you.
where the night has eyes
to recognize its own.
you are not beyond love.
further than you can see.
the world was made to be free in.
except the one to which you belong.
confinement of your aloneness
that does not bring you alive