By Ange Sang HOLY FIRE

I Am A Participant Of The Heart, No Longer A Bystander

depth

BY ANGE SANG

The Diver

Going under…
Dreaming last night…

I am a participant of the heart, no longer a bystander
A deep-sea diver, in cascade — raindrops, like liquid parachutes, finding their call
Suspended in the moment of remembering — I find myself inside that point, where we all dissolve
Dropped into and becoming the low, low alpha waves of rhythmic ocean, I can wear my heart on my soul here, instead of merely a sleeve.

Cloaked with the dive of my own submersion, emotions dragged out, underneath.
I am sinking, surrendering, enveloped momentarily, until passive motion turns into a spin.
I somersault ’til iris’ cast back upwards to the stain-glassed surface. Here, like a cork — bobbing in half immersion, wrung out,
I am suddenly oxygenated…by you.

I sense you, know you…as the inky depth itself unchartered,
just as equally; the endless air aloft.
Not there to play judge to your boundaries — I have simply fallen in.
Then as tides are turning I am swept up, unabashed — held in a torrent of internal adoration,
All I can feel is you.
Turned inside out and back to front, your waves, are my own confrontations. Underworld lashings and sandstorms, you do your best to wash away all my bearings.

I am drowning…
grief-stricken, suspended in the shackles of space-time, this is the memory of you.

Ripples and tides of my dear one’s face, your life — and life itself — revealing the best of examples,
of imprint divine
…of love…

And in the deep-sea knowing, that we are diving — diving! — into heart and spirit, the irony,
the irony that joy and grief, are but one and the same, for a broken heart is surely an open one.
Your existence — like any that walk, that live, that breathe, that dive — an echo of the only, itself.

Not separate from the storm, this pain, this grief — for it too, a kink, knotted tangling of the ever-love, contorted, yet still entrained from the one, the imprint, the Source.
The same quest to be seen and held, reborn through the darkness into the warmth of lover’s light.

And in the astral before I wake — I know dear — I’m learning to breathe again,
in tepid water, seas are calming and my naked feet, so close to reach
but then, and only then — the many secrets of your sea floor

— revealed.

For more self-study, The Urban Howl recommends 52 Ways to Live a Kick-Ass Life: BS-Free Wisdom to Ignite Your Inner Badass and Live the Life You Deserve.

Sip a little more:

I Want To Skip The Small Talk & Know The Depths Of Your Being

The Knowing That Is Not In My Mind But In The Depths Of My Soul

"I wanted movement and not a calm course of existence. I wanted excitement and danger and the chance to sacrifice myself for my love." - L e o T o l s t o y #dreamyourworldawake

#THEDIVER

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Ange Sang

About

An ongoing journey with LIFE + HEALTH has led Ange Sang back to her true creative therapy; through the written word and the lens of the camera. Ange is a devoted lover of all things 'nature', a tree-hugger at heart and a heart that feels utterly compelled to shoot arrows of word and image, straight from her mystical experience of life, to as many receivers as possible. On a unique path of physical illness, Ange began to share her written and visual arts as tools of "thanks" - a nod to an ever-rising theme of gratitude in recognition to those and that around her. Her heart-vision continues to find its solace and drive in the grace of Mama Nature and the aim to recognise and articulate the grapple of human condition.

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