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A Candle's Still Burning, And I'm Searching But Lost.
28 November, 2011
Author: Luke Mudge

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Preaching, not the word of "our savior" or the word of whomever anybody believes in. I have this gift, this ability, and I don't even know how or why, but people, good or bad, listen to me. They hear my thoughts out loud, it doesn't help that I'm very open and out there with them, but People Do Listen.

I am quick at taking a page from something I saw, and then putting the final pieces of the puzzle that completed my mind for so long together because the answer's were always in my mind, but I just needed somebody else to say it, or had some way of actually having something physical there to show the thought in my mind wasn't ridiculous to begin with.

Taking a look back recently I see things most people don't, I'm more of a realist then I am anything else, but something also kind of bothers me. Something that just came natural to me, believing in something higher, something greater than all of us, something that I've done my entire existence on this earth. Though whats scary is that though it was something that has been with me through 30 years on this earth, it only took a day or so for me to forget about it as if it was hogwash to even think something could possibly exist.

I leave my house, head towards my barn every night to let the horses in and I see the same sunset that is beautiful, one might say its God's masterpiece, letting us know he's there, one might say that mother nature is perfect, but what nobody can tell you, is why do you stop, why do you pause, why 15 minutes goes by staring at it and it feels like a second, next thing you know the sun has set and your trance has set you back in motion as if nothing has changed.

Seeing something everyday, it's never the same sun set but it is always something that when it's there captures my eye and wont let go, until it's ready to. My question is what is that? What is the endless feeling inside of me that for some reason is filled with doubt but so much certainty?


So saying I lost my faith may be true, I don't know if I ever really had it. But I do believe in some things. Personally to me the idea that the dead can communicate with you some how throughout life and dreams is possible, but the idea that you get to see them again someday isn't. And for that I really don't know why.

You flip on the TV and you see live action of a war scene, a solider running to the aide of another solider that has fallen, what you don't see is that child in the background, behind them, frozen, scared, but more confused as to why this is happening, and he'll never understand it. When you look at all of the things happening, that is destroying our way of life, as if it's a never ending thing where happiness is honestly something that only happens in the movies, it's very hard to believe in something higher than you.

But then again I go back, to route 79, and I say hi, and I shed a tear, and I remember, and I wish for things that don't make any sense, and I go back in my mind, and I smile, and I take that in, and I say goodbye again. And I'll drive back that day in and day out. Without knowing why, and I wont really stop. It's all in my mind. The questions, Like . .

Would things be any different if you were still here? Would we be closer?
Would my niece actually grow up knowing her uncle?
Would my wife actually get to know and love the other family she married into?
And would I actually be able to breathe thinking about this without taking several deep breaths in and out as I write this down.

Naturally you grab ahold of your emotions and take charge of what ever is heading you into a direction you feel is negative, whatever can protect you in a trying situation you grab onto and then as soon as you are safe you let go. You never look at the person or thing your holding onto and actually think, maybe they or it grabbed ahold of you and because it wanted to and it didn't want you to let go. But there I go mentioning signs again, distance whatevers' that nobody can truly put physical matter into play.

Dreaming again of the fog, its very thick, the silhouettes that I can see are ones of my childhood, ones of where things kind of always fell into place, a safe place, a way out, an area where escape was as simple as going home into the front door and into my old bedroom. Though the closer I get in that dream to these people that I know so well. The less and less I can actually make them out. And every single time I get to them, they are gone, there's a house, but it's empty, there's a yard, but nothing else, and then I wake up.

And I wake up, I go to sleep, I wake up, I go to sleep, nothing changes, day in, day out, losing touch, without catching my breathe. I miss them, they miss me, but things are steadily declining, and there's no way out of that rabbit hole, because I've lost the ability to use my feet or my arms in the situation.

So back to who I am, and emotional gut-less person that can hurt you with the most personal attack, though feel every bit of your pain after i hurt you. I can get your attention and make you move in one direction, but I wont lead you where to go once you've headed toward that direction. Leaving you blind. . . .

I see horses having fun acting like children rolling in the hay, and It's perfection.
I hear a piano echoing out of an empty building and it's perfect,
I watch a sun set over a hill that is filled with trees and shadows that swallow me up inside and out and grab your attention whether you are outside or not, and it is more than perfect.
I'll save a butterfly, I'll pick up the leaf that hit my foot and smell winter, I'll take in everything and turn it into poetry, and not know where it's coming from, but I cant seem to understand why or where faith came from or why its gone and why I then obsess with taking it to others and showing them that something they've known forever isn't truth, because you cant see it, or feel it, or hear it.

Things like snow falling and blanketing everything around you, without it, you'd be wandering in the dark, but even though it's snowing and your alone, your warm, and comforted because now you can see everything around you.

Things like Spring, comes and leaves so fast, you miss it and never even get to enjoy it. Colors like that don't come around a lot and when they do, you miss it because you didn't realize you were looking for it.

Music, you can hear it, it can give you goosebumps, it can make you move, it can do things to you emotionally that are so inspiring, it changes peoples lives. . . ..

And then cloud covers those emotions and your reminded of again what you feel, empty, something missing, something that wont change because you never really did say goodbye or were able to tell them how you felt before they were gone, or how they meant the world to you and you didn't know it till it was years later and how, genuinely she knew you, and you didn't realize how much you were a like, and your questions and confusions about everything probably could of been answered if she were around just one more day.

I wrote a quote once, "your eyes stare at the floor, so the walls can't see your sorrow" I don't write a lot anymore because I feel my messages aren't felt, where I could at one time connect emotionally, now it's just through thought, people agree, but its more debatable then truly taken in what I'm feeling or what I'm trying to get the reader to take in.

Not a blog, I don't blog, I don't have time to, not a thought, because it'll never get completed, maybe just words, typed out, that for now, have made sense at least to me, that I can publish on a good persons webpage, for others to maybe read and do with as they please.

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Comments on this poem/writing:

dad (74.67.107.114) -- Wednesday, December 21 2011, 07:07 am

i like the lines here

I have always enjoyed your words, the way you paint with words, using the blank page as your canvas, creating hills and valleys and great meadows for minds to wander in.... don't ever stop doing that, Luke. You do have a special gift.
 
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