The anxiety of what and who I don't yet know drives me right up to the places I don't want to go.
Places of waiting where listening becomes a must.
False humilty no longer planting my face in the dust.
Always knowing I could be running yet only trudging along
gladly singing the song of sadness, knowing it was the wrong song.
Until I know how to finish this poem, I retreat and reflect on the deep sadness I experience when I refuse to risk walking into the unknown through which this anxiety wants to carry me.
How often I follow my head(logic) when there is a gap(deep darkness) before the next logical step. My head says to turn left or right to avoid the crash. This crash or gap is what I refer to as internal bleeding.
It is here where I'm torn either away from my logic into wisdom or torn internally by refusing the wisdom given me. I can follow what appears as emotional familiarity(logical) or begin to risk following the dark newness of emotional intimacy. These two states(of being) continuously crash into one another more often than I like to admit.
Yet wisdom takes my gap theory(avoidance) into intimate emotional fellowship with myself and others when obedient to this wisdom.
This is true suffering, not just bleeding blackness.
Blue Angels, Blue Angels, what is meant