I have missed writing for AC during my little hiatus. I thought I would make my comeback by sharing a piece with you that is very near and dear to me. You see, I once encountered a day when I could not think. I literally could not think to the point where I did not know myself. Yet, I could still feel, unfortunately, for what I felt made me want to flee. I knew it was impossible for I knew it was I and the thing, indescribable, inside of me that I wanted to flee. Still, I tried. I ran and I ran until I wound up in a place that I have always loved since childhood. In the dead of night, shrouded by death’s shadow, high upon a New York City rooftop……
Salvation by Inspiration
Dedicated to Alice
Beauty commands attention. So, I tilted my weary head back. Pained eyes widened to absorb a boundless black canvas, meticulously speckled. The allure of infinity cajoled my vacant gaze into captivity. A lustful desire to not merely see forever, but to be swallowed up by it, taunted my weakened mind. Reluctantly, I accepted impossibility.
The small pacification that forever now dwelled within, rather than without, eased my disappointment. For now my mind owned this miraculous vision to recall upon its whims forever. My yearning gaze aroused emotions, some long dormant, from the deepest chasm of my being. Gliding upon the trickle of an escaped teardrop an ethereal voice warned, “Make this stop!”
In submission, I lowered my gaze. There it froze, stricken with awe of the fruits of mankind’s labor. Seemingly invincible, colossal structures snatched my defenseless gaze, one after another. Collectively, they stared at me, watching me through their hungry, paned eyes. The cold, black eyes harbored their dubious secrets well. Half-closed eyes glowing with guarded illumination strived to tweak my numb curiosity. Wide eyes, bare and alight, exposed that which morality warns against view. The ethereal voice whispered, “You see? You can do so much more than before.” In an eerily clandestine tone it added, “Go ahead! Look! You know you want to.” My eyelids fell and I hung my head in despair.
Gradually, a symphony of sundry sounds summoned me from below. My gaze floated downward, languidly, and landed upon a chaotic scene that seemed to bounce up and hit the back of my brain. A momentary queasiness disturbed the natural perception of time and space as manmade lighting in a medley of hues embellished shrunken objects. Some objects crawled, eerily, amid distortion. My eyes strained to focus. My mind begged to comprehend. Together, they grasped life.
So near the heavens that lurked above and so far from the life that scrambled below, the ethereal voice whispered in my dead ears, “Do you see, now?” As I opened my mouth to reply an agonizing pain consumed my weakened heart and stifled all hope of thought.
Disguised by distance, the rhythmic clamor that surrounded me began to emulate breathing. Slowly and persistently, the breathing flowed into my dead ears until it permeated their drums. Then, it caressed the vulnerable pores of my trembling skin and seeped through, layer by layer. Steadily, deliberately, it blew into my gaping mouth. Breath by breath, this numinous breathing saturated my aching mind until it reached an arcane place commonly referred to as the soul, and I did see. There it remains, embedded forever, nurturing my belief with its silent whisper, “You have survived. Now, you can do anything.”
My humble words cannot begin to describe the inspiration that lives and breathes high upon a New York City rooftop. The only way for you to know it for sure is to go and encounter it for yourself.