hinahina's profile

I died in the last days of winter just before spring ..... Fragile shafts of green piercing my shroud of ice and snow will never offer a bud to blossom under an April sky. The crocus blooms for the living. I walk amongst the dead. And from the other side of Lethe view the living anesthetized. Now I do not play the game I scatter the tiles upon the floor and kick away the board. I won't play. I won't Limbo protects me. as I wait for this frail body to join me in that interstice of oblivion And...

I am the hollow reed through which life flows My eyes no longer see My tongue rests mute I have learned not to participate I have learned to observe I am Daruma ... Who will paint my eyes upon their whitened orbs? Who will give me sight when customs holds that only hope fulfilled can mandate light and open eyes? I am a hollow reed and hope flows through these bamboo walls and drips into the earth where others find what I have lost I am Daruma I cannot wait for loving hands to wield the brush ...

And so my heart is weighed against a feather and I am found innocent May I go now into the arms of Osiris, at last unbound and feel the breath of God upon my neck? I who have felt no arms surround must let the gods suffice I have paid the price But never told what gift I would receive a crown of thorns a womb of bone and eyes so heavy my tears are stone And laid my head upon the earth to feel it throb and so atone become its heart and stand alone Maat flutters briefly on the scale and so awar...

And when I left ..... my borrowed home retraced my steps and so bereft of all so dear I huddled here behind the safety of my saffron cloth I let my eyes slide back and hide beneath my lids I let my body sit so limp ..... and dead the saffron folds that crowned my head hid myself from me I am eyeless my tongue is stone I have no soul I am alone and still they came and without pause laid flowers at my feet and saw behind my eyeless gaze my muted tongue the beggar's cloth a lambent blaze a shar...