Sophia was gone again this morning.
Usually I’m devastated when she runs off, but today I just smiled and rolled over for a little more shut-eye.
There will be plenty of time to catch her.
I always do, or should I say she always lets me.
I’ve tried to get her to settle down, but she’ll have none of it.
I’m not sure why.
It’s not that I mind sharing her with other lovers, I usually enjoy their company; it’s just that I’d like to stop wandering, build a nice little house, and say “ah, now I’ve arrived.”
She can’t abide that.
Maybe it’s because she won’t be possessed?
I’ve watched other of her lovers tear down their picket fences and build up fortified walls. Then diligently guard their gates while telling everyone that they are the only ones who possess her.
Some get a wild and manic gleam in their eye taking a certain pleasure in their "elite" state. Others are sad and tearfully entreat those outside to come in before it’s too late; of course, you have to follow their rules and not rock the boat. But at least they have compassion of a sort.
I can’t enter their compounds do to an extreme distaste for walls – well...at least other people's. I hate to admit it, but sometimes I start thinking about building walls too (just little ones); and then that cold sharp prideful feeling moves in and I start getting out my soapboxes.
Which is why ultimately, I’m glad she knocks down my walls and occasionally kicks me up side the head.
She won’t be owned, possessed, or tied down by anyone!
She loves us all equally, although we don’t all love her.
She won’t play the Truth Wars.
The only time she fights is when we refuse to budge, when we hunker down and stop chasing her. Then if we’re lucky, she’ll sweep in like the Apocalypse, riding on her white horse, dressed as Kali with fangs and claws and a necklace of skulls to obliterate the nice safe insipid little wonderland we’ve built for ourselves. Walls will crumble, dreams will die, and blood will flow; until we’re left lying in ashes in despair.
Usually I’m devastated when she runs off, but today I just smiled and rolled over for a little more shut-eye.
There will be plenty of time to catch her.
I always do, or should I say she always lets me.
I’ve tried to get her to settle down, but she’ll have none of it.
I’m not sure why.
It’s not that I mind sharing her with other lovers, I usually enjoy their company; it’s just that I’d like to stop wandering, build a nice little house, and say “ah, now I’ve arrived.”
She can’t abide that.
Maybe it’s because she won’t be possessed?
I’ve watched other of her lovers tear down their picket fences and build up fortified walls. Then diligently guard their gates while telling everyone that they are the only ones who possess her.
Some get a wild and manic gleam in their eye taking a certain pleasure in their "elite" state. Others are sad and tearfully entreat those outside to come in before it’s too late; of course, you have to follow their rules and not rock the boat. But at least they have compassion of a sort.
I can’t enter their compounds do to an extreme distaste for walls – well...at least other people's. I hate to admit it, but sometimes I start thinking about building walls too (just little ones); and then that cold sharp prideful feeling moves in and I start getting out my soapboxes.
Which is why ultimately, I’m glad she knocks down my walls and occasionally kicks me up side the head.
She won’t be owned, possessed, or tied down by anyone!
She loves us all equally, although we don’t all love her.
She won’t play the Truth Wars.
The only time she fights is when we refuse to budge, when we hunker down and stop chasing her. Then if we’re lucky, she’ll sweep in like the Apocalypse, riding on her white horse, dressed as Kali with fangs and claws and a necklace of skulls to obliterate the nice safe insipid little wonderland we’ve built for ourselves. Walls will crumble, dreams will die, and blood will flow; until we’re left lying in ashes in despair.
Then, and only then, are we free enough to rise and follow her.
5 comments:
feeling dumb here but is it okay if I don't know who "she" represents?
I'll take a stab that she is "Truth"
Sorry, I was afraid that "she" would be unclear. It was an indirect reference back to "Truth…you’re a fickle vixen".
It was also an obscure reference to:
Philosophy
Philo sophia
love of wisdom
Sophia/wisdom/truth
I see now. It makes sense.
Yah, I wasn't sure either - it is cool to re-read it now in context.
Keep on a rockin' us baby.
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