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Celestial Ruin

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"Your sign is everywhere,"  I said. And I kept looking at her—again and again. Each time, she transformed, becoming a celestial body suspended in luminous anticipation.

Everything around me was in flux, dissolving and reforming, yet she remained—my constant universe. A constellation of madness, love, beauty, hope, and longing, endlessly arranging itself around her presence. She stood at its center, crowned—silent, sovereign—the queen of that vast, tranquil, and radiant expanse that had somehow folded itself into mine.

Time itself seemed arrested, caught in the monstrous vacuum of eternity, only to unravel into fragments—memories, dreams, echoes. Infinity carved her image with relentless precision, and the image began to bleed. My heart, unable to contain it, broke apart—scattered into shards of her memory, into splinters of thought that refused to settle.

And somewhere—far beyond the reach of imagination, in the margins of non-being—a zephyr moved softly, carrying the distant songs of Rumi, and they drifted through my inner sky, lulling this fragile, celestial world I had made of her.


"You’ve so distracted me,
your absence fans my love.
Don’t ask how.
Then you come near.
“Do not . . .” I say, and
“Do not . . . ,” you answer.
Don’t ask why
this delights me.”

True. You flow through me like a river.

Comments

  1. Anonymous24 August 2014 at 21:05

    haha :D it's me "Z"
    we dont need another KAFKA :p
    you are indeed enough and more. see you back in hell. pandemonium needs to be engaged with GITA. ( you are pondering on GITA now , na?)

    ReplyDelete

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