Feeling Strange

Feeling Strange

I found a snippet of poetry entitled ” Feeling Strange” in a notebook dated 2004. Drawn to this piece, I was inspired to complete it. Although written in 2004 I would finish it from my take of life here in 2017.

 

Awareness

The often said “time fly’s”  feels true more often than not. The strange feelings surrounding the construct we call time is difficult at best. On one level we know it really doesn’t exist but how would we mere humans wrap our tiny minds around such a concept. Many of us have had experiences of time standing still, warping, wrapping or stretching giving further evidence that time, as we consider it from clock to calendar, is an illusion. 

Times of great joy or deep grief warp the sense of time. Total immersion into a creative project makes a mockery of the clock hands as time slips by at the speed of light. Being involved in a drudgery type task often make a minute feel like a lifetime. Strange feelings indeed if some one were to contradict such experiences regarding the flex and flow of time. Especially since I am pretty sure we have all had them.

 

Sensitive

As I read from the notebook dating back to 1997 I was most certainly transported firstly, to meet the hand holding pen and secondly, as the ink that lay messages upon the paper. To that I say, ” Let us dance the dance of our heart’s desire for we are so much more than human.” Astara Summers

 

And now here is my new piece of poetry entitled

” Feeling Strange”

 

I feel strange, like nothing matters, as though I am in a void bumping an occasional, thought, feeling or experience. Tangibility limited as sensations present themselves only now and then.

“Clear!” I say, “Clear!” Help me let go of whatever is holding me back and holding me down. I do not like this strange feeling. 

After so long, so many years of releasing and healing what is left that I am unaware of? What I ask in earnest!?

My will, Thy will, I will ….Love. Steadfast eternal I Am Love. And still today I am feeling strange.

 

Mystifying Perceptions

I Am a vehicle of conveyance for the light. Let no shadow lurk unnoticed. To this I do stand aware as the fire flares.

Is it my perception allowing the sacred flame to burn the dross declaring, “shadow no more”

I ask please, Leave only the Light so I may find my way. May I be Clear as crystal

I ask for Clarity miles high and fathoms deep beyond the sky and beneath the sea

Finally, Fill my heart and Let me see because In seeing I know, In knowing I do, In doing I affect my reality.

love and light

Astara

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