Shower in the Shadow

Note: Sometimes I shower with the lights off. The other day, I had had a crappy day at work and decided to revel in the misery. However, halfway through the shower, I realized that my eyes had adjusted and the pitch darkness was now visible. Felt like a metaphor.

He looked in the stone cut

and grouted shower

The tub like a valley

And turned off the lights.

He smelled the soap

that the concierge called

Saffron infusions and felt

Around for it, but hit wall.

He crouched  down

And would not sit or lean

Or lie. Only crouched

And closed his eyes.

The steam still filled his lungs

But the harsh darkness now

had a soft gentle glow. His eyes had lightened

And the darkness was not dark to him.

That Ever Present Moment

Note: Kierkegaard talks about different variations of time. He compares it to a fountain near which he have fallen asleep. At first, if it turns on, it wakes you right up, but once it has continued going, you don’t even know that it is running and it lulls you to sleep (in the analogy you don’t notice time passing sometimes). I don’t honestly remember the point he was trying to make, but the image stuck with me.

When first you came upon my sight

While snoring raised my chest.

Like a fountain started in the night

You woke me from my troubled rest.

 

I went to listen to the hymn,

The water fountain hum.

I splashed my hands into the rain

And drank my meted sum.

 

But now the subtle harmonies

Begin to rock me back to sleep

What once was that which broke my rest

now brings me to a calmer deep.

 

The fountain sprang.

The rooster’s cried.

Now water flows

Until I’ve died.

But time moves on

and we abide

 

That ever present moment