Time and Space

It is these two juxtaposing themes that have me all tangled up inside. Time and space. They seem cruel to the self that I carry around inside of my frame, weighing me down to the earth, and there is no escape. Through flights of fancy and dreaming I suppose I have had moments of reprieve, but overall I have to come down and face the fire of my living in time and space.

I vent frustration with it by flying through my voice, defying and deafening the odds against me. I float, I flutter, I dive, and I soar. The voice is a wonderful thing and its beauty becomes me. But time, like a robotic jailer keeps bringing me back into space. I get depressed sometimes when I can't sing anymore. When I ache from being in one position too long or my fingers are stiff from holding onto my basic chords too long. I loath, oh!, how I loath to come down back into my skin and bones.

So the question for me becomes, how do I sing through my life? How do I make the song work for me from eight until five? Maybe I am just creating more havoc on my wee little heart by trying to make it from eight until five. What if, gasp, I am not created for that world?

I suppose of the things that I am most certain of in life, this is the paramount thing: I was created to sing. When it all began, I was a song, and when it will all end I will become, again, the never ending melody that I have heard through my life in underground currents of rhythm and harmony. It is the in between time that is killing me.

Time and space, humans and place! Why do you keep me locked up? What if it is me that is denying my own self the freedom of choice, the freedom of song? What if I am the robotic jailer of my heart? It seems congruent with the rest of the discoveries in my life.

"A mirrored jar, with the lid on tight"

In darkness and in light
In capabilities and in fright
I sing, I sing, I sing.