Sarah Callahan
Somewhere between unconditional love and insurmountable grief
The interstate of the logic that is necessary to survive in this world and the free-flowing emotional abstractions in which make it worth living
Among concrete sky-high architectures of materialistic business beasts craving a cash feast
And the essence of nature sparkling and beckoning from mystical sublime pale green palm trees
The battle of self-preservation following a one-way ticket to damnation
Defensively collapsing into existential quicksand upon blind faith to tragic alters of false Gods gestation
And the final cracking open of the unbelievable illusion that requisites the birth of a higher psychic vibration
Can we ever rest our heads into the security of the closure we desperately need?
Or are we perpetually stagnant and frozen
Huddling behind claustrophobic flimsy walls perpetuating the merciless pressure of existence
The mindless clutter within artificial cell phones cultivating a dystopia disguised as home
Waking in cities like New York, Chicago, Los Angeles
Climbing ladders with no ceiling
Barely breathing
Operating as if we owe something to someone, have to get over something or someone, have to get somewhere or be someone we are not
Imprisoned
Existing behind a faulty flightless facade flux state heart wrenching fear of dying
I for one, am dancing on a rainy grave with a smile on my face; my funeral is a raging holiday
I am the red hot phoenix springing from the obsolete
I am the yellow daffodil arising from icy glaciers of synthetic concrete
As this whole world veiled and divided stops abruptly in floored utter shocked disbelief
Because I do not conform to these comical theatrical ideas of what I am supposed to be
Instead I sing along to authenticity
I have freed my spirit into the eternal now
To die, and so to grow
Reborn