MOURNING SONG

They close themselves around empty rooms. Where all joy has been dropped to the floor in the midst of a party.

There´s an impatient frustration, a sort of slightly blameful awaitening for someone to daringly pick themselves up.

Someone brave enough to enter the silence... the explosive space, where everything begins anew. And fresh eyes see.

It's a mourning song, that has burried itself deeply into the ridges of humankind. A tragedy that quietly awaits it's absolution. A bang, an explosion, something new,

Something surprising, ... Something utterly unknown.

Silence.

Propose a game he says, or she says, or it says.

In reality we are waiting for ourselves here. Not anyone other than.

Only our own integrity, our love, our own inner power, space.

The creation that lives us, and only ever is found a blink of an eye inwards, rather than outwards. We live from within, if we so choose to.

Sometimes in deep dispair, frustration and sorrow for the moments in which we were unable to meet, and step freely into ourselves.

Even the sorrow for those moments in which we didn't meet us, is a portal to the biggest of all kingdoms.

All the worlds riches united at this one (w)holy place. The one unchanging moment.

The surrender to ourselves, is the surrender to Now. Surrender into the deeply anchored, deeply confused, deeply changeable, deeply sorrowful, deeply vulnerable, deeply exited, and awe-inpired,

deeply everything...

Not even hope has feet to walk here. And neither, before nor after are really real...

We are driven by something bigger than us, the same as us, by life itself.

The spark ignites within. The inner space. We can only feel it from here. It's unreachable while residing in the borderland around the emptiness.

What felt empty once, is the space in which our essence unfolds as we live it. Everything else is a shallow line drawn around our being. A belt around the waist suffocating the life within.

A celebration around this hollow land, is not a party at all, unless it celebrates the death of the tragedy, in which everyone waits.