Ramadan is fast approaching, so many thoughts, so many plans, the ones un-written or un-noted, fade away, seldom to reappear, something in my aura telling that an un-finished duty is awaiting, a duty that was never begun, just a flash, amongst the hustle and bustle and the cluttered disorganisation that is in my head!
The way to regain ownership and order of the whirlwind that seems so unrecognisable at times, not being able to differentiate what is me, from what I do not want to be.
Deprivation is the only answer, I know, harsh as it may sound, It actually remains the only sweetness that awakens my soul.
Looking forward to meeting a friend, a meeting that I may not be alive to even attend, how do I know? what do I know?
I have to pour it all out, where is the sense, it doesn’t make sense, because there are no words within my head, just thoughts…… wrapped in a whirlwind that I cannot comprehend.
The light that glimmers far far away, at times the flicker is aimed in my direction, I stare and crumble at the opportunities that I have let slip through my fingers, like sand running, running as fast as the slither of a snake.
Keeping up is so hard, especially when weighed down with so much STUFF, I just want it all out of my head. How do I begin again? clear it all out and set out, no more false starts, but an eager soul, filled with a passion that overflows and never ends.
As the faith within me deepens so do the valleys and hillocks on which my spirits highs and lows depend. No more, but less, of everything. No more adding to the pain! What is there I cannot erase.
So as Ramadan is fast approaching, a long and lone spiritual moment to focus and realign in order to guide and learn to deny any, more, but less, yes! Less. see its all in the deprivation, that the regeneration of a weakened soul, an awakening of a spirit will begin to take hold and I can feel free again.
Lighter and closer. His words, not my words, are what I want to behold. I want Him to hold me close with them, fill my head with them, for my heart to beat, with His words, for my blood to flow, with His words, for the rhythm that takes hold of my life to be sung, in His words.
Ramadan is fast approaching, the constant reminding, that I fall short, so short that I cannot overlook, as much as I try and I shouldn’t. The mistakes, the wrongdoings, the lies. The fear that I cannot bury them whilst alive, all my actions will come with me and I wish I could leave most behind. The frustration in this life that I try to forget in my mind. They are already a signature imprinted deep, deep inside. In a place where I cannot reach, yank them out and set them alight. To start again, if only? nope, sorry, that has already been denied.
On all fours, bent over in dejection. A friend is coming, The souls are arousing, eager and wanting, in spite of my being unaware, there is something changing, something, somewhere in the air. My soul is desperately needing constantly beseeching, on my behalf, a hope etched into my spirit, good tidings of a place where only the spirit that lies within my soul can be free and tranquil, the destination that it saw and beheld, without me being there. Placed within me, It has tried to coax me there, that is the reason I so need to get us there……………….