Phoenix

by DJ Sprague

Op. 2 The Original Peace

  In life, we journey forth, we course like a river, but only with remembrance of its beginning shall one proceed un'lost. Only with remembrance of the original peace can one journey forth, fearless of death and transfiguration


  Feeling born there is a beginning. Once there is a beginning, there are the living. What is this present?..this happening of now, but the end of all that is past and the beginning of whatever is future. What length may the dimensions of now be, in the midst of newborn radiance? How deep can it be, while sadness wishes to be freed from the grip of its storm? How long or deep can simple aspiration make this now seem, this happening prepared by memories and dreams. To what length may they grow?..in this vast eternal world

  In this world there are living souls, shrinking and swelling in eternities. Being only of eyes, ears, touch, and smell, or being the whole of these limited worlds, touching lightly, perceiving only a bare glimpse of one's self in times of change..during upheavals of weakness knowing no place to rest, no place ever where the soul can be all of what it is. Forbidden mirrors within, are stayed when the creature within, is denied, and innocence thereby, denied 

  I am the running who hasten from the dead, avoiding the light cast down upon us..hastening into and dwelling amid past wishes and fantasies of future dreams. Or withdrawn, I dwell in eternity, vacuous and melancholy. Driven by fear, I be. Knowing living fear, I fear the light of eternity. Fearing eternity, yet so deeply of it, life passes faintly, like a fleeting dream. I am the down'trodden, the darkness within, the sleeping soul yearning for some holdfast. To feel alive..to feel that life is more than dream in a dark passing night

  While of past or future, I dwell in this now, appearing unliving, without spirit. Yet within, most keenly aware! My spirit pauses. An eternal moment upon me, knowing myself vaguely, and feeling all else as alien, how can the un'selfaware possibly say it has lived? while being of timelessness, the eternity moving, resting, flowing into, around, throughout all that lives

 With a self'perceiving eye in motion, seeking union with the spirit of some distant song, of aspirations and dreams co'mingling, I live still'spirited. Living with remembrance of living, and I especially remember when a new awareness, a new feeling or emotion has become a part of me. So predisposed for more, I feel distinguished from so much that seems to be unconscious things, existing passively reactive to other things

 Through passive bits of matter, I feel, I think. Within an intricate body of systems within systems, I am as the stars are..bits of light and vision. Purpose and aspiration seep'out from every bit of matter I call me, so intricately and precisely formed that I know creation by its irregularities. By variations do I seek me when rigid form predominates, and by rigid form do I see, whenever chaos over’runs order

 Awake, so much passes through me into an irretrievable past, into the darkness there, within chambers of ghostly brooding. And moments of life are readily consumed by the mood, lost within thick fogs of emotion over deep bogs of wishes and dreams. Life springs from all that is random and self directing. Origins of existential query are inherent in things obvious, as self ordained and vainglorious, they may be. And so, self conscious bits of matter have become impassioned, seeking relevance..and caught up by their own dark vorticies, each lives isolated, richly timbre'd between immutable order and all'consuming chaos

 From chaos am I compelled to seek finite order. From rigid order, am I impassioned for variations of space. Only between them do I feel greater..do I need to enter this 'now' within every bit of matter. Bits that are systems among countless systems coming together, making larger systems larger until the very large cannot distinguish itself from the very small

 Somewhere between the extremes is life, is there living with remembrance. Is there a thought crystal born by a single element of need. Arising many times. Enough times so each need joins another to become a large crystal born from a solitary need many times over again. Born in need, I change rapidly from my beginning. Whenever something new enters me, my pulse quickens. Anticipation builds. And a moment of eternity passes throughout within. And suddenly, magically awake, something new is seeking unity within, and with all, without

 For birth, living, and dying do the forces of creation serve. A body is made through which I come to be, an ordered system hosting disordered me. And my sensitivities evolve into a delicate body that would shrink away from the flesh in an instant, if it were pressed upon too much from without. Like a spiny sea urchin, I have felt withdrawn inside a hard shell. Strong thin spikes emerge from all sides, reaching to feel the life, to sense it in every way. Isolation inevitably seeks the light, striving for some change to feel a larger world, to feel all life in it, waiting for primal impulses to become less so, to become more gentle toward the creature I am

 Within a configuration of elements compiled into flesh, within a complex system in a vastly greater world, I am born. And soon, memories pass into thought for some master dream, and for some edict of soul and pattern of heart, I become future caught. And for such vision, limited valuables of matter are not weighed to be exchanged. For the integrity of dreams, I be the strength of memories, I be the links between them, the links between links..between abstractions in eternity, I be. Between eternity and this conscious moment passing, I am the changing, moving, transforming, a self transcending being of time. And some words stay and claim the immortality to which they belong. Yet to live, words must incarnate and live in time, and become..of precious value, however relative or obscure. Such is the fate for any word aspiring to live in a larger world than itself. That is, to be of substance, a word must be known by the light of other words to survive the trauma of birth, to bear the pain of impending change that begets the death and transfiguration..its anguish of obscurity, and anxiety of subtlety

 The dark of my past is commanding, beckoning me. The darkness there compels me to enter. To live, I feel I must enter. Bite the fear this darkness bears! Infinities of mind shall in time, find their end..seeking darkness, any greater darkness as passage into my past, I pass through..to feel my beginning. Endeavoring, striving, reaching with uncertain power, embracing equally, the limits and the unending..moments flickering, far away..so distant from me, that I only know cold darkness between me and the deep, where my beginning is

 As I approach the center of my storm, I feel agony when my cry goes no farther than my own ears. Unheard, unfelt, unseen..suspended within deep silence, searching for a place to rest, I perceive my bed, my personal things and my uncertain station in this earthly world that arose so quickly, so easily, so readily it seems. The light of day urges me. I perceive the barrier of my window, and the trees, and the grasses, and all moving things outside. The sky, the clouds, the wind and rain...why do all these things seem so strange? They are in harmony I sense, and I!..the estranged

  From where do my patterns of logic arise? From what source do bits of light I call me, come to be? I live with these queries all too ready to impose themselves..keeping from thinking myself as a component within a vast machine. And being as others of passion, I sought satisfaction..yet, my misery, my myrrh still outweighs whatever pleasure was gained

  Simple pleasures are shallow and temporal and easily shadowed by subtle agonies in isolation..in some purgatory where life seems far less than a gift, and more than an unbearable burden. Yet..if only I could find a feeling for a greater world, or some beauty perhaps, to distract me from this reckless self'conscious "I." I fear that I could become but a dream of some sleeping over'soul somewhere. A passing fantasy in the sky. This vague mirage, I

  From my deep somewhere..do I need wisdom springing from there, while not knowing where or how it arrives. Not from shear experience alone, I know, but of the eternity I am, I must learn, I also know

  Unchanging, fixed..immovable, I sometimes feel like a tree that cannot bend to the spirit over land and sea. Like the cold crystal of my bedroom window, or the dense carapace of an old tortoise, do I feel the deep of me..do I sense fear corrupting..gaining speed from infinities of mind, I would be, in division, to inevitably only be, in essence, the darkness within..living, barely feeling me..vaguely feeling the memory of all that has been, and proceed directly beyond and become the oblivious star dust from which I sprang. Yet in that dust!..like the things existing passively reactive to other things, there is peace, and no burden of self delusion

  From invective pointed words, fear in command would be overlaid by anger threatening..and I know not what would break the barrier between the fears I am and the peace I once was. Deeper within, I move until the roots of my passage disappear. Trapped by my own darkness and so unfeeling am I, that even the biting cold of bleak snow I would welcome..seeking such extremes, feebly feeling the world around me..sinking, penetrating ever deeper

  Intoxicated by the wine of who I think I am, I cannot help but be drunk from what the idea of an eye, a hand, a body, or another living has become to me. Blurred from so much wine distilled, how can all of life be?..but from some chalice of vanity

  And my acts of judgment are made of a foundation shifting and wavering. I live within the space of a bounded mind, within a heart petrified by vague notions of a greater universe. Great obelisks of false light. Monolithic tombs of hurt and bitterness..eternally restless, I be the airy spaces of mind that keep the world as an outline of a book. As perfected angles and planes, and absolutes overlording flesh and blood, I would be ever'ascending powers of fear, and its progeny, hate. Within immutable space of perfected images, seeking some vague peace of bauble and beauty, I am in vain, attempting to live and love without the peace from which life springs. I live, governed by some twilight'instant of sweet mystery..between light of consciousness, and darkness of moon

  In the midst of my night, the stars shine and blink as though they were freshly made. The texture of the earth is soft, moist, and distant..yet profound because it seems ageless. The waters in the sky just arrived. No time to stay, but those that do, remain suspended as a grey ceiling, veiling the radiant sun..lone castles arrayed throughout its misty kingdom, the living everywhere is preoccupied, as though born with some clear impassioned purpose. And I, a recluse, under a grey umbro'd sky

  Yet, there is a faint memory of peace within me..passing like the faces of moon and the turning of Earth that puts the reflected radiance of the sun into phases. Phases of light, as I am, seeking the darkness, I am here and now..a mere witness to everything I see, enslaved by my own nature I be

 To survive and be, I would become like the spines of a sea urchin if need be. I would be the sting of a scorpion, the claws of a hawk, or jaws of a she'cat. Yet, no matter to what incarnation I am impassioned, there is always the memory of peace, no matter how faint. As the eye of a great circulating storm, my deep is, the peace of an all'serving moon

  Far from this peace was I carried by fear and desperation. This peace I need, this peace I know. This peace I must remember for my soul to keep, for the original peace does exist, the gift of Eden, outside of which, I muse, the instant I became self aware amid a sea of disconnected words with an uncertain horizon..with its anthelion rising, and moving the tides of darkness within me

  Upon so many passageways of desire, pleasure for pleasure's sake does wantonness seek. And I bear the weight of blind desire, but secretly seek within the vacuum  of pleasure's gain a dream of peace amid all that lives. For the peace within, I do not perceive, I do not feel the very deep of me. I do not know..carried upon rapids of a raging river, wandering..meandering forward to some premade destiny. And I anguish over a faint memory, by which to make a haven I could fashion..some quiet harbor, a piece of silence, some spanse of pure nothingness, some touch of gentle calm. This, I yearn for..and driven I be, to manifest the means through which I may feel this peace within me. A peace that is the beginning and center of what I have in complexity, become

  Such a holdfast upon my beginning I keep. From the time of conception, and soon after first breath, I emerged into the open light. I am breathing, and even after crawling, walking, and perceiving self light, I am still emerging from my original peace

  Growing, I am distracted more and more, traveling far away from my beginning as starry lights in the sky are also but images of some deep uncertain past. I shall return. I cannot stop, not even for a moment! Ceaseless motion becomes constant, and ever constantly increasing, by which I become quartered and tethered to a figment of light..lacking volition, helpless condition, spiraling to some uncertain where or when, but nevertheless traveling there, a dark need impelling, a deep reunion impending. Needing a foundation standing, I live for communion with the peace, deep within the midst of my airy timelessness

  From the dust through which I emerged, I shall remain separated. Beyond me, ahead of me, deep within, I sense there is more..there is a greater world to live! A world that I once saw long ago..when I was fully embraced and nurtured. And now, at the dark roots of my own intangible beliefs, I pass through, bearing the eternity and transfiguration brought about by denying each self there upon the basis of its own darkness. I am greater! than any sovereign dictum, any presidiary axiom, or system of them that could be. Any change I undergo is but from need. Each love, a proper death. Each belief...eventual revelation of its dark roots, whereby a fatal blow is made to its immortalness. Perhaps such is the way immortality finds its end...seeking the specific time, place, and occasion that it may live

  The barrier of a thousand eyes weakens and fades as my need to feel life deeply seeks one bit of death after another..until suddenly, imperceptibly, my journey within, ends. And there, in the center of my storm, a deep peace pervades all that I am. My dream of peace lives! Within it, I fear not!..to live and die, as need be, and I, alive!..quietly rest from the quest..wide awake with fresh open mind, as I were in my beginning


REV:  Jun 2017

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