Who am I? Who are You?


Who am I? Who are you?

            I am drawn to these two questions like dawn is to sky, like a bald eagle to the tip top of a tree, floating above a forest.  Who are you?  What is beyond your eyes?  Inside your heart?  Around your edge?  Outside your dreams? Does something frighten you or disturb you, standing dark as espresso beans, whispering hues of brown secrecy.

            I guess I want to know these things to know I am not alone. To know I am not the only freak at the circus, standing alone with my colored juggling sticks, twirling my insecurities and idiosyncrasies, upside down from left to right for the whole world to see.  If just one color, one scarf, matched in auburn hue, reveals the same scent, the same sneeze – I am not alone in this mess of the mind.  This sea of a storm where my emotions crash in loud persistent waves, out at sea among a prairie of water filled deep with me.  Deep with you. 

            I want to know I am not the only act in this play.  The only boat in this sea.  The human condition drives me forward, like steam on a ship, a paddle for a canoe.  This condition, darkens black like a giant sky before a thousand year storm, then light.  We are surrounded with angels, singing, myths, psalms, poetry and song.  Gorgeous hymns that break our hearts, ruffling under the electricity of our thoughts. 

Image Source Page: see link below

Our hearts break into prisms and chasms of arcing rainbows, double striped, reflecting the parachute we float down from, peacefully, gently, like river stones tumbling over each other, striking the distance we chase ourselves from. 

            The tiger growling, bouncing, on his meat, tearing at the flesh of our fears, gorging on the density of the apostle of our pain.  This memory of fear, of pain, of this, keeps me caged, keeps me eager, keeps the key, so I can unlock this mystery of me.  This mystery of you.  I hold the key in my hollow hearted hand, cupping truth and beauty, darkness and evil, the shadows dancing over each other, bouncing light off rim, light off rim, light off rim, into the sea of the unknown — the darkness of the universe, depth, into motion — motion into muse — muse into melody — melody into me — light into you.

Link to rainbow photo – http://www.posterlovers.com/gallery/showphoto.php/photo/4424

memomuse has a rainbow baby named Benjamin.  He is a beautiful boy who she adores.  He is her muse.  A rainbow baby is a baby born after a miscarriage.  memomuse lives in a Victorian house built in 1880.  She fell in love with its floor to ceiling windows.  She thought it was a house Emily Dickinson would love.

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6 thoughts on “Who am I? Who are You?

    • Hi Deborah.
      Thanks for stopping by. Yes, my beautiful boy is a rainbow baby. Where is Machi Picchi? Sounds like an amazing experience…any blog posts or stories about it I can read on your blog?

      Like

    • Hello Monica! I am glad you found my blog. I checked out your blog and we have similar interests. I am looking forward to connecting with you in Cyber Prairie!
      I love your blog. Great photos. We are more than muscle and bones…

      Like

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