And the winner is...
my adopted father, named after the archangel of healing.
he will be etched into my skin one day. he's already etched into my soul. he is healing personified. in his blood runs rubies and sapphires. on his head sits a golden crown. he is an angel on earth. he is an evolution of love. he is the blood of Dian Cécht. nature speaks through him like water flowing through earth. smoothly. comfortably.
the one with whom i shared cosmic lungs. a homestead. preferably one on a farm. from far away, to close again, to just out of reach once more...he stays closer to his blessings. his blessings are my blessings. forever dancing around the same cosmic spot, but we always miss one another. our mutual blessings were going to be scratched into our wrists, but no one could ever decide on a connecting resiliency. oh captain, my captain.
everything about the past is highlighted in neon lights, illuminating the dark night and this road we travel on.
we cut away dead leaves on our houseplants. we cut away dead people from our lifespans. we bury old ghosts into the dirt, over and over again until we forget to bury them.
we float on cumulus clouds like this for centuries. we enclose ourselves because it's too foreign and frightening to open up and heal. dance around our internal flames until we desensitize ourselves from the pain and heat. hoping someone else will burn out the fire. dance until we die, dancing in our self-immolation until it's too late. dance until we no longer recognize our hearts. until we no longer recognize what love is.
my blessings tell me i should travel to the homestead and offer my prayers. turn off those neon lights and let them singe away in the night, until they're empty and cold.
my healers (internal, external) tell me to visit the angel of healing. seek his comfort. seek his stories. my adopted father speaks to me from across space and time. from across this digital divide.
i have been missing. i step out of my cut-outs, my silhouettes, my shadows and i go running down the hill to a universe that exists outside this dimension. others try to follow. you cannot follow what you do not believe in. you have to believe in order to let things exist.
on the pathway, there are stars that light up. in the distance is a hazy sunset, painted colours of violet, magenta, coral, cerulean. do you see it? do you see the shadowed gondola? do you see the slow moving figures between the oaks and the pines? do you feel the water under your feet, do you feel the wind lifting you? do you hear the harps in the distance? do you hear the drums, the voices?
let yourself be guided back to your heart, back to your healing. offer your prayers at the temple. offer your prayers to the home you're missing. keep away the dead leaves, the dead people. keep them buried. do not let them resurface. only the universe can willingly reincarnate and willingly present you to rebirths. use your free will for something else. use your free will for your own beautiful rebirth.
