|First Entry... something original....
||[01 Mar 2006|02:01pm]
Frozen Feelings: Me
Feelings caught and trammeled inside that cage of flesh and bone are barred from utterance and isolated in its forbidden-ness. They are locked with large rock-hard locks and the key has been long hidden so that memory no longer can find it.
Striking the door, you try to free them but they are so ossified to their hiding place that, embedded in the stone, they have become frozen pictures of love, peace, hate and anger. So even if the door were to be broken down, nothing would be free.
But even then, that is a mask.
For underneath the rock, a well-spring runs. Which formed the glacier sculptures and created a beauty in stone. This, cool and hot, is full of life and laughter; uncaptured and, with no dams, flows free.
Look closely. The rock is porous after all, and from the leaks, tears of sorrow and laughter run sporadically. Trickling down, they form and reform new pictures of feelings felt and love unsung. And flooding, one day will crack the wall of self-restraint.
And then, the mask will break.
Yet, still, it sits, the frozen pictures. Do not judge what you can only see. For underneath the grey-black stone, a river of love runs free.