WHERE IS THAT TREASURE?! Amal Islim Copyright © 2009 All rights reserved

Aug. 17, 2011 - PRLog -- From: Walking with the Vain Cattle/ Step Fourteen: Where is that treasure/ Chapter 3: The Journey towards the Higher Self.

I convince myself to keep going, just one more mile, the fight is almost over; but the breakthrough is so out of my reach. Just one glimpse of its light’s perfection, please!
While I climb that supreme humbling road, I silently roar: “where is that treasure?! Why is that absolute need?!” Maybe a “too-good-to-be-true promise” is far better than an irksome pleasure! I persist. That is the warrior’s way of life. Conquer, or die trying— to perfect my central call in that timeless seed—that dedicated will in my heart; some are the shells, and some are the pearls. Certain are to protect, and certain the treasure to breed.
I’m crossing those pitiless deserts with this gruesome camel—with a beast! To reach the heart of the divine; that oasis, the fresh start; which is unreachable by a human pass, but maybe, by his center and soul! This creature’s invisible wings are heavenly dragons, sending me to protect its earthly paradise! Is that why I seemed so mean?! Would a lion be king if he looked so lean? Or God be as real if he could be seen? Yes compass, I follow you. My road diverges to the west, not east! To this open market where dreams are for sale, where I’ll buy myself another dream; to become blessed, devout, yet free/ not crucified, then nailed! I’m walking my path with a kind heart, and a holistic claim. No matter what and when, I’ll get to my aim. But, darn it!! Will I ever truly live a Utopian celebration? When is that reward?! And what is a feast?! Without strain, and onus’s iteration! And if in the halo I’m summoned, will heaven’s doors welcome me with my beast? For now, I must wander alone. Friends, I had a few—those who came and went. Some lived to the fullest but died young; I’m hoping immortal love to them was sent; so a red rose I threw over each corpse of my priests. And some had angelic faces, but only complained and wept! If they could feel a ray of sun, at least!
As for me, I journey with a spirit for any ache. No fear to put all at stake. With a head high and I know why. Yet puzzled, I don’t deny. That’s the life of an artiste.
But when I review my dreams in my bed, sometimes, I feel a stinging regret. Not the immense one that you don’t show. But a risk is a must, if you must know. As I am daring all before I’m dead, with a wondering soul that leads the way; and with a grateful heart for every day.
Criticized! Surely, for my risky bays! And for riding life in unconventional ways! But my every stop is to cleanse and learn; how to tolerate what I’d rather burn. A story, I do have— to tell, as I carried my banners out of hell. I lived as fully as I could; I didn’t do the must and should. But now, time is sinking its fangs in my esprit de corps; withal, agnostic forces are draining me, and they think they know what’s for. Lonely shadows projecting their wraith, planting apprehension where there is faith; with their gloomy hearts never gay, blaming others even for May. No, none of that—I shall take no more, even their breath is a serious bore. Oh, God no! Needless to say!

How can I be in when I want out?! How can I live in faith when all is doubt?! How can I maintain peace with their inner shout?! Angels, quiet, please! A stillness sound maybe! My ears in the seas, my eyes on the skies, my cheeks kissed by the loving sun, while my arms lay aback in the cool blue, floating in perfect harmony with this hot summer breeze; then being surfed by heavenly creatures to my blessed new home; meanwhile, asked if any needs—yes, please, just a cocktail, thanks, no cheese.
But cut—Angels, questions, please: Do you ever weep?! Do you ever have burden and grief?! Or did God give you that zenith belief? Will you give me an example of that heavenly leap?! And when addressed with incessant despair, don’t you fade a bit? How does your light stay lit?! How can you be love and light? How can I find my blithe and delight? That timely action, when to discard and when to keep! Only to you I can turn. Only for you, I wish to yearn. Or am I just a rapid robot waiting for its serving sheep? My heart was once a rebellion, but now I wonder: Where is my strength that with its glance my enemies fled? When fear feared me! Where is that inspirer in me that taught death life? Now, there’s no life in my living?! Just, dissonance and strife! I was lit with inward glee. Now, gaiety whiffs me and flees! Where is my will that broke stone? And when from the impossible I usurped the throne. Now, I compromise and plead! Oh, unknown, what’s your creed?! Yes, my rivals! At last, my dress is torn. Gloat away, and show your teeth. I won’t break them today. Enjoy your moment, it won’t last. Attack me while I’m sedated with pain. Go ahead, and salt my wounds. Haul me as you please—oho, how you can lead. But, wail not when I wake. I pity you, but I shall not scorn. My inner pride, no need to loathe! Oh, no need.

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Walking with the Vain Cattle/ The fight with the self/ inner struggle and its monologue. Visit press room to read reviews and other posts. A spiritual drama about the passage from the darkness to the light, the fight between the ego and the spirit in a materialistic world while trying to reach harmony, balance and inner peace. A theatrical musical.