Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 May 2018 LERCH
Thomas P Owens Sr
such a thin line separates us
the living from the dead
the spirit that is free
from that which is bound
I have felt your gentle touch
and heard your whispered plea
I sense your presence
across the open seas of time
are you my love from a distant past
a kinder world
a quiet life?
I have come to believe that you wait for me
there
just across the line
just beyond the fray
where spirits dwell
oldie - revised a bit
 May 2018 LERCH
Me
Cohesive
 May 2018 LERCH
Me
Automatically,
I gave myself the name
Me
and I placed myself in the
Here an Now.

And it took me six years
One illusion gone
One house flooded and away with the waters
One father, the only one I had, dead

to notice.

But I also want to tell you what I got;
I got the great
great chance
to integrate
all my parts.

I found (or it found me, or-)
great
love.

This is not supposed to sound
in any way holy
or sacred.

Or wise.

It plainly states
the facts.

Thank you, Universe.
To be able to live, first you have to lose your fear of dying.
Not my words, but my thoughts and conviction.
"..you hear me, I can feel it.
Write what I'm about to tell you,
for you're the first one
in a very great while to listen
and not just simply hear.

I know your pain.
I hear them too:
crying, screaming, pleas for help.
The people around me point and laugh,
but I know you hear them,
I know you can hear me:
I can see it on your face.

Please, I-
we
beg you;
don't ignore us:
you may be our final hope
for revenge, and more importantly,
acknowledgment.

Edwin, please hurry.
We need your help.
There were once more of us,
but we're hunted, herded and murdered
as abominations, as witches, as demons
by they who severed their own minds from the Source
whether willingly or not.

Time is ever shorter for us.
Our breath is ever weaker.
It's a miracle you're writing this down."

"How am I to help?
You're just a hallucination of a voice-
an artifact of my fracturing sanity;
T'is I who needs the help, t'would seem.
If you are indeed real,
where are you that I may be of help?"

"I do not know where I am,
or where the others are,
but I know it is nowhere we belong
and I know it is now we must act.

The Gift
seems, from the outside,
to be dismissable as mere 'mental illness,'
and it may well be
to one who has not studied it
and lived it
and mastered it
as was once common
as was once our privilege.

The Severed
would seek to eradicate all traces of it
without regard for damage done and blood spillt.
The Severed
have no concern for anything beyond
what they perceive within their inner horizon.

However,
you are of the Severed world, yet remain Nonseverent.
That is no small feat.
That is why you hear us.
That is why we need your help.
You and I are an echo of a dying breed,
a reflection of the Source, herself,
in a realm which intentionally fell from unity
into schismatic disarray."

"How should I seek to help
if I have so much to learn
and so little time to study?
Where would I begin?"

"Go to sleep. It will be in a dream
I shall present myself to your mind,
for a conscious state lends itself
to fear and violent schism at any cost
when it comes to things such as these.

There and then you begin thy training,
you begin a new journey upon thy Path.
You don't yet know how important this will be."
Literally a conversation with a frantic female voice in my head.
Call it 'Inspiration' or the ancient Greek concept of the 'Genius.'
Prior to this revelation, I thought it was just ******-positive,
but now I feel it's more deliberate and fated than that implies.
The Comfort Zone
is a beautiful place
but an infertile one
Next page