Whispers in the Dark

I hear it, or so I think I do. I stop and remain stationary for a short time, pondering, questioning, debating, analysing. I shrug it off and continue. If someone had told me, I would not have listened. If someone had shown me, I would have granted no credibility. I would have scoffed. I would have laughed. Much to my detriment, I knew better than you. I knew better than God. I---WAS---GOD.

Enlightenment is exquisitely divine and a gift that is not to be discarded. When divinity intervenes, it is best that one accepts, surrenders and follows. There was once more darkness than I could bear. More pain that I could manage with a mere salve. More loneliness than I could remedy with companionship. Strong mind and foolhardy ego could not sustain existence any longer. The mind becomes fragmented, distorted, deceptive and fantastic in its grandiose permutations of reality. The voice---it screams. It plots. It critiques. It critiCIZES. Amidst the commotion, the tiny whisper cannot be heard. In this whisper, is the answer. In the whisper, is peace. Serenity. Clarity.

Padlocked, sealed and contained in an airtight container, the infinite voice of reason without sanity, rationality and purpose is dampened. In the darkness, there is a faint whisper; it is faint and foreign, yet mellifluous and familiar. Quiet invokes restlessness. Peace incites resistance to what simply 'is.' What we fight for so long is a cunning opponent--agile, expedient, formidable. Once enlightened we feel foolish. When the universe finally flips the switch, we stand their beaten, bruised and exhausted. Amazed, we look around to find no one crouched and ready to scuffle. Our worse and only opponent was always our own self.