The Meaning of Release

Release...

[quote]1 : relief or deliverance from sorrow, suffering, or trouble
2 a : discharge from obligation or responsibility b (1) : relinquishment of a right or claim (2) : an act by which a legal right is discharged; specifically : a conveyance of a right to another having possession
3 the act or an instance of liberating or freeing (as from restraint)
4 : an instrument effecting a legal release
5 : the state of being freed
6 : a device adapted to hold or release a mechanism as required
7 a : the act of permitting performance or publication[/quote]

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I asked my brain what was needed. It gave me this word in my sleep.

True deliverance, not a stop gap, not a substitution meant to mollify a crying child. Not a vapor that burns away in the sun. No more stealing sanity, snatching at the threads that were meant to blanket you. No more pretending to safety. No more pretending at happiness at the sight of the unblushing cardboard flowers and platitudes. No more gulping fear like drowning water. No more listening out for the heavy boots of those who mean to hold you down. No more quieting terror and anger with the oblivion of hope springing eternal.

A real cure. A real motion in time and three dimensions. Digesting death before it digests us. Rising from the ashes. Raising the force needed to stop the assault, the infection, the wasting. Kicking a hole in the prison walls big enough to admit liberation. The effective force.

A ransom bearing your name.

Your name.

How can we shed sorrow? Tares growing in the wheat. All the same. All leaping from the same ground. Inextricable from ourselves. How do we remove what no longer has a blunt physical form and has transformed into shadows and a play of light only? A chemical spirit racing through our veins. Part of our blood and life now. How can that be excised, that sorrow, that bone-deep desire to weep out what has no words, no shape, that hides like a fugitive abused animal inside us, that has no voice beyond our own halting imperfect advocation?

We're indivisible from what silences the flame. What suspends us, great mocker of onward-marching time.

Where can such power emerge to birth us into this brave new day...

Who do I seek, who do I beg, debate -destroy- for the title. Who has possession. Where am I warehoused? Where does my soul lie frozen? Tell me where and I'll punch through the ice until I bleed.

The sense that I'm being asked to accept what does not make me happy, what does not fill the void drives me upright in the bed in fear, pollutes my dreams with grasping need. Where is this beautiful world where determination is finally enough, where bravery and unrelenting love prevail, where whatever is within the sound of voice will know that I will be there shortly no matter what I have to fight and stand down on the way to meet you? Where is this place where the enemies slain cannot resurrect and stalk again?

Release tailored for me. ME. Where is my liberation. What will take the shake and tension from me, the rage and pacing, the fathomless grief buried in dark cold flame, the mute thwarted scream as Patience itself shatters from the blows of implacable impassivity. Release into the arms of more than this... more than THIS...

What will raise the Titanic from the depths? Can she be raised without falling apart? Fate thrown from her. Thrown from me. Crawling all the way to freedom on our hands and knees, believing against the odds that we WILL stand again, we WILL feel life returning in shocks into every inch. Dry bones raised - remembering how to live again- from the bleached field of loss and death.

No more bashing myself against the glass like a trapped moth. How does this window open... show me how. Tell me what to do. Tell me what to do. Tell me how to reach what makes me jump out in vivid color. Tell me how to reach the high shelf. Tell me how to stitch my immaterial person to that distant bright noise of laughter and stability. Tell me how to seed the clouds so I can rain and rain and rest. Tell me how to bring down the lightning. Tell me where to find my perfect kiss, the spark in my eyes, the sound of my own name stirring the air.

I am not a lost map to nowhere. I am not the long sleep amidst the thorns.

I am not forgotten?