A Note Inside the Circle Φ

I found myself inside a huge circle. I didn’t really know how I got in there. I started to sweat with thoughts it might have been a trap. And I figured I needed to find a way to get out, somehow.

I was in deep sleep. I pictured those two huge walls that confronted me before. All decisions I’ve made come rushing back. And I figured I wasn’t really paying attention and now…

Now there is tension. Now there is fear. Now I am haunted by my own shadow. And I standstill surrounded by a loop of what could have been wrong.

I can’t run, I can’t hide. Somehow I know I can’t push it aside. I need to relax, need to breathe. Someway I know I need to get back to my feet.

The smoke clears and I awaken. Now I can see what’s here and beyond. I may have brought myself into this setup. And I figured I shall get me out of here before it’s too late.

It takes time. So much time I could lose forever. But if in between I will find my way back, I’ll buy forever. I look out for that’s what I can do for now. But I’ll make it through, slowly, I will.

It’s just me. I lay here alone watching the world outside this hoop. Others may have their own hoops, and I wonder if they feel the same way I do. And then there’s a note:

My poor thy self I pity. You took too much and forgot about everything. You gave too much you lost yourself. Leave some; leave some for me, my dear. You were allowed to go high but not to fall hard. You have missed and you are weakened. And here you are in the palm of his hands. Take rest and be prepared, savor the smell of heartache and pain, and soon you will arise safe and sound.

I shall do so. Keep my eyes open, keep my ears quick, and my mind awake. I shall be ready for the final call. I shall regain my strength to face the fall.

I wait here. I hope. I do not expect. I’ll work hard as I look out for thy self. I will not waste, I will not cry. I will wait for the rain and the sunshine.

The words echo in my head. But a guess isn’t always precise, and sometimes intuitions remain intuitions. And then there’s a note:

Let the bird’s wings find its way. Climb back the mountain but don’t jump off again. Be careful. Take the journey with all bliss. The length of the wait lies on your hands now. You can never break the bubble hoop around you with fierce. It is healed, my little old self; it is mended. It fades by itself and not by force. Be patient. Take time to embrace yourself in all harmony. Listen to the music and not the thunder. Through it all you may find the key that would set you free.