Response to Northography #262 – A Hanging in Mankato, Minnesota

http://www.northography.com/responses.php?stimulus_id=262

BEYOND WORDS

What to say to the image
let alone the story and the history.

Here in the new year we reflect back
upon our deeds and misdeeds

upon that which defines and builds
the core we take with us.

On that day, truth and bravery
hung heavy in the winter air.

Rivers flow from a source toward some destination, often into a larger collective of water. Some flow into and merge with other rivers, some flow to destinations we do not see, and cannot ever know, such as the Brule River falling into the Devil’s Kettle.

Time flows into time and back into itself. Time is seemingly consistent and flowing everywhere, as we are immersed in its ever present impact on reality. Even when time is bent , we are merely bending ourselves around it.

Time is a benchmark of distance between events of every scale, and across all realities. Time has been assigned subjective numbers, months, and years to provide a more palatable meaning that assists in getting through each day.

Time is what make of it and the experiences wrapped within time. Time is merely a river flowing and merging with other time. As now is the culmination of past, present, and future, now is the center of all time.

On this evening of one time period giving birth to another, one cannot help but to reflect back on all that has happened, and the impact these events have on each individually and collectively. What will the new time bring? We will continue to suffer, again individually and collectively? Will our spirit fight through the veil and emerge on the other side of the border, intact and stronger?

Why does a date, a mere number, mean anything at all? The spirit, and the consciousness, have no age or physical limitations, they only have levels and states of awareness. These events only serve to guide our being, to fill the path we make with challenges, allowing us to reach further up, and out, to reach where we came from.

Awareness enhances the field of vision, showing the intersection the physical and nonphysical have with you, and conversely how you are perceived in that reality. Awareness can then take you beyond here, beyond this wasteland we are rebuilding. Awareness will take you to the border kingdom as you search for the source, and n=answers to many questions plaguing the awakened mind.

There is no birth, only no-birth. There is no death, only no-death.

The consciousness swirls around the being as he walks through the field he has created, toward the border separating one kingdom from another. A choice now to be made, based on the experiences he has gathered and keeps in a black velvet bag. These fragments are what he has chosen to let go of physically, and allow their essence to blend and consume one another, creating and defining his awareness.

The sun will rise tomorrow, and it will set in the evening.

I see the path I have taken to get here and I vow to clean and clear the path I will take next, to avoid the carnage I have created, and the negative energy left in my wake. To improve who we are, and how we project ourselves into this reality, a reality involving others, is the most simple and powerful thing we can do.

HZ

He rises smiling from
the concrete and rubble
untouched, unscathed
with dreadlocks he has returned.

Arms raised, not to heaven
not to any god – to home
out there, beyond here
this existence, this ill-defined reality
to a birthplace mired in plasma,
neo nuclear processes
and colliding atomic particles.

Dark matter conceals his presence
while vibrating strings
conduct the orchestra he plays.

Chased by black holes and
chaotic matrices, jumping
from universe to universe.

The infinite energy pushing outward
ever-expanding, the waves are his horse
the asteroids iron his sword.

One foot here, the other beyond
his mind nowhere soaked in Nothing.

Two beings stand at the
Infinite boundary between
The sea and the fields.

To each only minutes have
Passed and the 20 years of
Silence was just yesterday
And what was still is.

Hand in hand they now watch
The sunset and its
Reflection in the azure waters.

Touches on the war raging within and the sides taken.

War

Violence breeds violence
even the end game harnessing
power embedded within the universal
chamber and corridors breeds anger,
resentment, from years into centuries.

This battle I will take within
the war I wage with myself.

The game played to unwritten rules
invisible line separates two teams.

I chose quickly the ocean shoreline

my mind chooses a cliff over the beach,

and this stand off continues while I
wander the murky soup

of undefined time, the marathon with
an unknown starting and end point.

Written in 1992

Standing among the ruins.
He looks out over to the west, as the sun sets upon the land
And the smoke billows from the ruins.
Many thoughts at once run through his mind and collide.

He stands alone, afraid to look.
Afraid to ask.
In his arms, he holds all that is left of his life.
The life sniffs the air and hides his eyes under his paws.
He knows what has happened as he howls at the blood red, war torn sky.

A tear falls from both of their eyes.