Caricamento in corso...
, by John Torcasio
Robert L. Martin

The Zone

The Zone

If thoughts were to be divided into two zones, our earthly one would be like the astronomer gazing at the universe to find secrets hidden within it.  The hidden secrets would be like the heavenly zone that we can’t see and feel, but it is still part of us.  It is our private paradise that hovers over our awareness and keeps its power and intelligence stored away in a secret chest.
It runs with the passion of a nomad.  It roams the earth, poised to unify the mind, body, and spirit.  What is lacking in one will be equally distributed to form a solid divine power that surges through the body.
It is impartial as it breathes new life into whoever it finds.  It was born and nurtured by sacred spaces, but ends up with both the Godly and the profane.
Like a proud mother of mercy, it sympathizes with futility and opens its heart to it.  It invades our being and commands us to submit to it.  
Like an enchantress that goes and leaves us feeble again, it moves away like a fast moving storm, but it remains in our fond memories.
It guided my hand as I completed twenty out of twenty passing attempts.  It forced my fingers to find the proper keys and raised my music to new heights. It gave me new words to write. It displayed its vibrant colors before me and invited me to choose the ones that suffused my heart; the ones I dip my paintbrush into.  
I anxiously wait to find myself in that zone again.  Please come back to me.

From my book entitled, "In Reverence to Life."

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