From death

Man born of flesh ever dreams being God. That is what we lost when we were hurled out of paradise. Longing forever for the experience of that one sacred moment of regaining that ecstasy. The closer one is to God, the more the excruciating hurt, the more is realised how unattainable our old life is and how enormous our loss. We are haunted ever searching everywhere for but a mere fraction of realisation of that forgotten life. Do you see? 

Remaining on this earth is rather nebulous indeed. Ever looking, ever searching for that which was lost or simply thought had lost. To come back from the dead for Amor Omnia is a wondrous noble, romantic concept, however the most selfish. An ideal existence of, wholeness  The spirit in its eternal longing to be whole yearns for this ephemeral concept of existence. Love, as it is expressed through the soul of an artist is painted with the brushstrokes of the ideal, the perfect goddess, that takes form in the imagination.

That is why you yearn for Camelot, for  the world of Avatar, for Nirvana, for Rigel ….for me. I am or rather was  for you all the goddesses of old, all rolled into one package. The perfection of Aphrodite, the unattainable Psyche, the most wise Athena. I was Persephone showing you the ways of the underworld and wonders of nature as Artemis. I had the magic of Morgan le Fey, the prophesies of Cassandra,  the beauty of Helen  and the graces of all the immortal goddesses.  I was the beholder of all the divine parts that wished you had and desired. Through me, with me you felt you could have all. But, alas sweetheart now you see that I possessed none of these gifts. Never did. How could I have gifted you with something I never had.

The part that you think are missing from you and feel you once lost are all within.  The dreams of times in paradise. Being part of the ideal woman, the divine feminine, the immaculate flawless creation in  the image of God, herself. I was the very embodiment of all your ideals, needs, dreams and aspirations. Like Cora, but  even more so, for now I was real. Do you understand that all that is just a mirage? It is a projection of all your ideal from  your over soul onto me. You created me, breathed life into me then you destroyed me.  You, Pygmalion,  fell in love with me, Galatea, your own creation. You loved me not for myself but what I represented.  I simply  loved you for yourself. That is where we differ, for you were truly my hero, I was never your queen.

But I was none of those things, I never have been the embodiment of all those noble virtues .  Oh, how I wish I could have been all those things for you. To cool that  flaming spirit, to bandage your aching heart, bring  peace to your waring spirit. Be your very stillness to your restless mind, that is ever seeking and searching for something which you already possess. All I could do was to love you to the best of my soul`s intentions, with every fibre of my very existence. But you wanted more, that was not enough once you saw your own reflection in me. Thus I was not, could not be, thus in punishment you killed me, destroyed my soul and banished me. Can you ever understand that? Can you ever stop searching for those ideals in the eyes or the word of the next Suzanne?

However we do still no matter what, we keep searching all our lives for that enchanting moment, however brief, however  fleeting  as it escapes us like breath, that is ever changing. It is the very breath of God. It can be never captured, that is why love is so brief, celestial and magic. It  exists but for a fraction of eternity and its gone.