The Heart Of The Beast----Page 38

You can see the humanity in their eyes. I
can tell when they understand. When they can go
outside of themselves and see what another
person is going through. I can see it in their
faces. And in their eyes. I can dream of beauty
incarnate. There are times when I run into
beauty out in the world. There are times when
beauty exists only in my dreams. I feel her
gentleness. Her childlike innocence that has grown
into adolescent playfulness and is on the verge of
adult love. Can I follow her there?
There was the sadness of contemplating all
that I had lost. All that had washed out to the
sea. Sometimes I felt as if I had lost all
that I had. Then I realized that to lose
was to change. That to change was to grow.
That to grow was to become. I started seeing
the images of those who had gone before me.
They beckoned to me. And they were beautiful.
I wanted their world. I was filled with
desire for their existence. I felt as if that
desire was dangerous and could lead to my demise.
What were they trying to tell me? Could I
find peace in her arms? Where was this vision
leading me? To yet another challenge? The
pen was like a syringe. The ink like a drug
that fueled my life and gave it purpose. Or
made it bearable. She watched over the darkness
of my life like an angel. She appeared to me
and taught me what beauty truly was. I then
learned the truth from her. She showed me
a glimpse of the true meaning and purpose of life.