Being stuck inside a small cavernal space has left traces in the flesh like graven tattoos marking trapped insecurity. Bounded, chained, and incarcerated, takes away any possibility of escape. Groping and searching for a way out weighs heavily on the spirit. Interiors are mirrors of self-reflection. Feeling around, hands on walls, looking for the key to unlock the door becomes relentless and seemingly unending, as a blurry darkness blinds and the glare is not quite enough to allow for seeing. Seeping through a crevice comes the Other, who opens a possible world that transforms the architecture and leads to redemption.
Wednesday, March 7, 2012
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3 comments:
Once again I find a resting place for my soul in your words and images. In the complexity and mystery of life I do find His light as peeking in through small holes. I am not blinded by a light that I can barely see. It seems to be enough at this moment to keep me seeking more.
Jeannie,
Thanks. So glad you find rest here. Your words are encouraging and I'm pleased to know that you see enough to keep seeking more.
Your words are really valuable. It connects to my soul. I agreed that Poetry and art take us far beyond passive contemplation and also faithful action and engagement with the world.
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