Wednesday, September 12, 2012

My Watermark

 
 
This is about how You drew me a watermark of my capacity to contain the forgiveness that was never mine.
Acceptance is the is-ness that you have given me from the start, to keep me afloat, to guide me, to drown me and to make me more pragmatic. And so it was that you made it real for me in an untold beginning – a time of unconscious believing in your unknowing promises. It is from here where I remember vividly how you drowned me with overwhelming uncertainties – where every breath I took was a reminder of my fallibility – only to drag me out from beneath the waves of evanescence and tell me that this is happening.
And so I accept what is it that you have caused me, given me and taken from me.
When you caused it upon me, it was a matter of choice. When you thought to give, it felt right to take. And when you took from me, somehow I could still receive and even accept.
It is this indiscernibility that made me see it is not truly why, but truthfully how.
It is from this belief why you whispered how I did not want the ending to be explained, but to be revealed.
Belonging is the ought-ness that you left for me when things were forsaken, to steer me on, to inspire me, to bend me and to make me more progressive. You granted me closure in an innocent voyage – a crossing into an intense disguise of your intuitive conviction. It is from here where I recall deeply when you showered me with a rain of renewed restitute – where every raindrop I felt was a symbol of my imperfection – only to cast me into the tempest of my resolve to grasp that which ought to be mine.
And so I long for that which ought to be your peace, your pledge and your purpose.
When you showed me peace, I found my cause. When you unveiled your pledge, it led to the freedom of purpose. And freed from want and need, I knew then that my yearning had been around far too long.
It is this imperceptibility that made me see it ought to be about when irrespectively, and not who respectively.
It is from this certainty that I ought to know when it is not about who waits for me at the end, but who walks there with me.
Finally, it is not about the where but the what. It is where intangibilities are scarcely given and as hard as you try to strip me off my anguish, what you can only take away are the tangibles.
Because in the last couple of days, when sadness was the sea, what You taught me was how to swim.