I made up the word “tropeography” looking for a connotative word that described a biography but communicated the essence of biography as a trope of shared archetypes rather than a separated “me story.” Googled, the word produced only three returns, and this was one of them. Pretty cool.
I think, btw, that it’s a very good word, and should be put into use immediately so that I can mourn its popular ruination before I die.
am i alone when i weep for you
does anyone out there feel the sting
is the mirror as fascinating and frightening to them
as it is to me, its placid surface, so clean and full of
empathy, so honest, and yet completely cold
has anyone else pressed their mouth to the fire…
This is exquisite, phenomenal, and perfect. There are people who are capable of getting it, who know what it expresses, who feel the sting of cold transient sparks and the simultaneous, paradoxical presence of love and fullness. You are not the exile, the outlander. You are located at the heart of the universe, speaking honest truth clearly.
My God, what genius and humanity there is in this expression! Life is full of “terrible pain” and separation and fools who don’t get it, who don’t know how to see or love or hug, who don’t hear the loud questions, let alone the quiet answers of humanity’s truth. The ones who do - they’re with us right here, right now. They know the pains of separation and they seek you as you seek them, and, yeah, sometimes they shrink away from the pain. And just like you they get big again and get back into it, because there’s something moving them to you and you to them along the path from cold, transient sparks to love.
God made real is people who know how to love. They hear, they come. You move toward them, they move toward you, you and they at times enduring the pains and fires of the sainted because that’s just the way it is. Look, they are nearer to you every day, and you to them. Keep moving, keep remembering to be big, remember that what you have learned and know about love is also a reminder, and a promise:
i have called your name in the wilderness and you have come
i have called your name in the city and you have come
i have sobbed your name into the sky and you have come
like rain, like sand, like winter snow, like fire