Share   Print  Save   Become a Fan

Some more prosetry! :))

ET IN ARCADIA EGO


Standing where my life is sand caressed and wetted by lapping waves, I am ready.

My eyes have grown bigger, brighter, greener, changing from fired-earth colours to hues of the deep. My hair, too, has thickened mysteriously, as if threaded with luscious braids, its tawny tones permeated by silvered highlights from distant moon’s aura. Cheekbones have risen, becoming finer, more chiselled, losing their innocent roundness. And all four limbs have extended into long bones that are finely tuned, vibrating with a toned and muscular sleekness.

I wait patiently for the four pillars of wind to rise and for my colour to be sapped, absorbed by approaching forces of rapture and transformation. Shedding final vestige of human identity and collective belonging, I peel away jeans, pull my shirt over my head like a spent husk, kick off the sandals of gentle journeying and service that have measured and defined the steps of my human pilgrimage.

The tide is turning, beckoning and drawing me. It’s time.

Obediently and without looking back, I walk naked into the waters of rebirth, cold biting away existing flesh until sudden moment of change. In the blink of an eye it happens, strong ebb wrapping round my thighs. Numbness is transfused by searing heat as my whole form alters, rising up powerful, radiant and equine.

Here no more, I am present: Where light and waves ride together, I am traces in the air. I am with you as an ageless memory, a rise and fall of time and place, the rosy glow of distance. I am your unshakeable confidence, an indefinable shimmering haze.

In Arcadia esto perpetua