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internal monologue ii - dark nights and the soul of love's light


image taken with my iPhone last night

internal monologue ii – dark nights and the soul of love’s light

some call it the black dog, or the dark night of the soul, I can see why, but these descriptions fail to describe what I have experienced, for I do not feel that a black dog is following me, that would indeed be preferable to what I have felt and known. Nor do I feel the dark night of the soul, is an adequate description. That is going easy. A dark night is simply one without aid of moon’s tender shine, less comforting than other nights. However, the description I would use would go more like this:

I felt like I was drowning in an unfriendly sea, all those who meant anything to me, could not see my distress, and the loneliness that permeated and choked my being so silently, would not slip away but become greater and larger than any human or any tree or any sky or any sea. Yet, only I was having the experience of it, while others went about their daily devotionals and exercised their right to be human, I became alien. Terror grips the souls in such situations and what was ripe for the picking is stripped from the tree and crushed underfoot by this unknown being of blackness, without a face, so that one cannot see it, name it, it refuses to be revealed, as some power would then be lost, coming forward into the light, is indeed the only way it’s grip can be loosened and when the victim is reluctant to bring the devil into the light, then she suffers all the more. Decrepit and destitute, yet having the appearance of ‘all is well’ on the outside, the inner core is melting and becoming deceased. It is in the vice grip of the darkness and becoming weaker and frailer with each day. Only love can save. What is love though, in the end, how do we define it. Let me see if I can do that for you. I will say this. That love is that indefineable thing, that you encounter when someone realises you are so destitute and wants to provide your suffering soul with an ounce of comfort from the cup of soothing words and from that you receive the overflow of their spirit through the empathic delivery of soul source. It is the transference from one giving soul to another emptied soul. She in turn revisits the giving soul, when the giver is emptied, and pours out her empathy into that one, and in so doing, they revive one another. This is love, or a form of it, that I am familiar with.

internal monologue ii - dark nights and the soul of love's light

© Karin Taylor

Joined February 2008

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  • F.A. Moore
  • © Karin Taylor
  • F.A. Moore
  • © Karin Taylor
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