Lady; In Waiting?

The cosmic present having travelled the expanse of our universe,
Eight minutes,
Could not break through,
It tried,
The suns rays, held at bay,
Through the arrogance of our designs,
Pitiful fools,
Transforming landscapes to meet our needs,
In violation of the laws of nature,
Without consideration to anything other than our desires,
Spiteful offenses to the obvious balance of the universe,
Though strictly within the purview of the laws of man,
Recognizing the bone chilling iniquity of our ways,
Though soft and nearly imperceptible I heard her intoxicating tears,
A sobbing I understood, understand, far too well,
She was calling out for relief,
She was calling out for freedom,
She was calling out for life,
The dank and dark station,
Magnified by its emptiness,
Trains long ago stopped running,
The familiar hum and whistle of a century of progress,
Darkened and silenced by our haughty insolence,
From where I stood, I could see,
My soul momentarily uplifted as there she sit,
Finally clipped the strings of her masters,
No bank account, no phone, no place to call home,
As she could no longer live inside the bubble or fabricated comfort,
He deafening screams no longer a daily pursuit,
As deaf ears surrounded her,
And us,
Fools that we are.

Sitting prone, upon the rusted rails,
Those that had long since gone unused,
Her calculation one of symbolic representations,
A prism through which she realized her own destiny,
Her fears were palpable,
Introduced by inaction,
An immobility that only reveals itself,
When one, such as she,
Has reached beyond the violent conformity,
The gross inadequacy of just being one of the crowd,
The same that threatens you and I,
Immobilized by the acknowledgement of our arrogance,
The monstrous daily accord whereby we choose to ignore,
The plain truth, readily apparent, viciously true,
But not for her, nor for I, bearing witness to the lies we’ve told,
In that moment, realized, a kinship,
She as sister, daughter or mother, abstract,

Lover in waiting?

I as brother, son and father,

Lover in waiting?

As I approached her, the tears grew louder,
Perhaps sensing she was no longer alone, as she still sit prone,
Each of us, keenly aware of our role in our transformation,
From minor transgressions in lands far away,
Now brought home to cheat us all,
Further demand our acquiescence to the tyrant of the invisible hand,
But not her,
Nor I,
As I will take her pain and make it my own,
I will feast on her soul, endearing it mine,
Such that she may be free, truly free,
To arise, as phoenix,
From the ashes of her own submission,
To the grandest passion of her ascent as universal master,
Her own,
That I might be the final step,
In her awakening, an enlightenment that begins with personal freedom,
In exploring wants and desires,
Those do not require her submission to the slave mentality,
That shackles us all,
As I approached her, curious and wondering,
Without warning or provocation the tears stopped,
She lifted her head, turned it to face me,
Where I could see the raw beauty of her intention,
Liberated by the simple words that she could barely speak,
“Help me.”

“Help me!”



1 Comment

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One response to “Lady; In Waiting?

  1. Lauren

    Beautiful words

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