Thursday 23 April 2015

TUMBULATION 3

I saw such beauty but by coming near to it I was doing harm.  To render it apart seemed my worst violation.  I had been determined to decipher what was good about it so as to convey the meaning of it to others, but I'm afraid I only ripped the thing apart like a many winged insect.

I had seen such beauty.  I'd severed it apart with my love and desperation.  They still couldn't see it.  I'd killed it and to them the thing had never been there.  My guilt and shame were tremendous.  How does one show the world a beautiful thing?  I'd torn it apart.

You can't present to others what is only for you.  They had allowed to ascend to the second level, at any rate, the spirits that is.  I was given an award and a ticket to advance.  Here we would learn to fly tiny mosquito-like aircraft.  They dipped and hummed above the surface of our existence, but we could ride them too.  A woman pilot lifted us above the ground and we didn't come to any harm, although the take-off seemed precarious.  We had been perched on craggy mountain reaches.  Here the danger was magnified, since the lift off position was not stable.

I broke things still and was clumsy but because I had been elevated to a new level people were more forgiving.  The discipline here was strict, with all attending educational events in concert, but part of the imbued strictness was the capacity to be more forgiving.  They'd ripped me apart in the previous life, but now they were accepting me whole.






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Cultural barriers to objectivity