The Fortress

I place myself at the seam between ocean and earth there is an urgent cold wind that steals the oxygen from my lungs, and I love it


Waves take turns seeing how high they can crash over the dark craggy rocks of my heart, softening and dissolving through a humanly unfathomable millennia


Will this fortress around my heart ever be toppled? Who put it there? was it myself in a past life? Why did I think I needed it there? Now it seems the only thing that brings me suffering. Preventing life force from flowing freely through my body. The cursed bane of my existence or some sort of spiritual koan? 


How do I reverse the momentum of a comet that’s been circling the sun since before the first grandmother? It feels as if I have no control over it…unless my true identity is the unseen forces of space that propel the comet… 


Do I force the dissolution of this fortress or accept it as it is? Even though I know that which has a birth has an end, the restless frustration of this unending war seems inescapable. Am I to leave it alone or fix it? Is there some quiet secret third option whispering to me from between the lines? A softening, slowing and listening so that one may fall between the crack of a rock and a hard place to the ocean of true freedom that is our identity? 


How can I will a process so devoid of effort? Do I just have to helplessly trust that God will remember that It left me here alone and confused?


I pray for deep rest, I pray for deep peace to be alive and awake in this form. I am weary of the push. God live me. 

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