Sacred Life Sunday ~ Gilded Freedom (a poem)

 

A crimson heart ~

sweet as nectar,

and a scarlet, burning ember

 too deep to fathom ~

love, pure, fresh love 

cleaves him to her.

He opens the gilded cage,

watching, awestruck

and with baited breath.

Apprehensive, her wings unfurl,

She flutters, then sails away

on the gentlest stream of 

a breeze.

Shimmering,

she returns 

to the gilded cage

and sees Him there,

waiting.

Her wings,

beating

in time with her heart.

Her heart,

beating

in time with His.

image credit: google, public domain

poetry: copyright Roxanne Galpin

Inspired by and dedicated to Martin, who showed me that I do have wings, that they can carry me, and that I can fly on my own. He showed me this through the anguish of his love, which gave him the strength to hold the cage open for me to fly out. Of course, I flew back into the cage to my husband, a man who understands that loving me requires giving me alot of space.

Transcending Oneself

The experience of difficult and miserable times, themselves, hardly suffice as grounds for dissolution of a marriage. As the date of my wedding anniversary approaches, I remind myself constantly what a sacred entity I nearly threw away. And of how stupid and selfish I have behaved. One's life will always fail and falter if one places a drug, or any other material substance, in the centre of one's existence.

A marriage isn't just worthy when it serves my ego and makes me happy. And happiness (or lack thereof), seems to me, the STUPIDEST reason of all to contemplate ending a marriage. When is it ever wrong to want to fix what's sacred? If the spouses in a faltering marriage have extended to each other the gift of forgiveness and acceptance, than why should anyone else have trouble with things?

My decision is final.

I will entertain no further doubts or questions about it.
This time, I refuse to succumb to temptation ~
I have delivered myself from it.

post number ...

... and i feel like a pair of deflated boxing gloves, left on the shelf to rot.

this date ... this very date ... weighs on my mind. one year ago tonight ... that's when i left. funny ... how the passage of 365 days seems to make no difference in so many ways. or perhaps this ... this is payback? if you believe in that sort of thing. maybe this - feeling i have - 'left on the shelf to rot' - maybe its kharma. maybe its fate's payback for my behaving so badly 1 year ago. maybe ... maybe i'm meant to now assume the role of receiving - receiving the pain i dished out 1 year ago.

i suppose, then, i have only myself to blame. i made my bitter pie. now i gotta eat it?

funny - i do not really believe that. but - i have no other explanation to offer.

and soon ... oh so soon ... i will stop seeking any explanations. i will stop bothering to reach out to the one of whom i speak.

i tire of this. really, really tire of this -- neglect i feel. and have felt everyday for several weeks. today ... i have the distinct feeling of my skin disintegrating, right before my very eyes. i feel powerless to stop it. i feel powerless ...

just me. togetherness - unity - its a load of fucking BULLSHIT. just another one of those lies society's always trying to shove down our gizzards. or so it seems. to me @ this moment. i am just me. that's all i am. alone. no skin. the skin - i think its an illusion. its non-existent for me, right @ this moment. i have no connection. just the illusion of a connection. and it leave me feeling sad and insignificant.

that's all.