Rambling off Into a Morning Sky

Thinking about my ghosts.

What / Who speaks to me--

How do I move through these voices, do I stop and listen, really?

Kierkegaard has something on double-mindedness.

"Is it not double-mindedness: to be ill, to put oneself under the physician's treatment, and yet not be willing to trust the physician, but arbitarily to break off treatment."

I need more focus--faith, patience, silence.

___

No words this morning. I do not even remember my dreams--but if I wake and start the day writing, perhaps that will help.

So, I try and examine this pull, need.

Do not explain me! It wants to say.

But it breaks me. Sometimes, I wake and it has walked into the morning, silent. I sit and stare for hours, abandoning the stillness by panic.

Don't tell me I am erratic! Don't tell me I am wild for myself.

Yes, OK, for myself, for something out there that holds myself.

The voices are inside, somewhere, teasing me.

They are standing on a cliff, somewhere, holding my heart-creature above their heads, in their hands, threatening to hurl it into greater silence.

If I move wrong into this day, will my heart-creature be another month in silence?

I was going to say, don't tell me I work hard enough,

But why waste energy worrying what others think,

It is the door, against my forehead,

that will not open, that I worry will never bang

on its hinges. Don't tell me to stop kneeling here,

Go on, I don't want anything but this door and

The voices to step closer, my heart-creature in their hands, unharmed,

Rambling off into a morning sky.