The Old Finnish Cabin Beneath The Light of Lives
With less and less time spent in the company of self, such company comes to assume it's unappreciated. ...These are the dangerous activities, ambiguously healthy for their risk; the climbing of the steep positive (and so easily made negative) cliff face, the ledges which rise, like steps, up towards the peak of solitude.
Gar...why so wordy! The first sentence isnt.
"one idea per sentence!"
But the semicolon...it's layers of the same idea...
the metaphor helps to explain the dangerous activity: the solitude.
Take pity on me, cliff face, and remember how I scraped and clawed in falling from the grace of your white peak. Remember how you nestled me in your cool knowing, the crisp crystalline nature of your reflections, shared through me as insight. I was yours and you mine, and our love was deeper and grander than any earthly union could enscale. Remember me, and let your cold Nordic wind enliven me, guiding me once more.
Then to now to never learning, and will I ever? This last life was a potent one, for I carried the inclinations of its older knowing through to this lazy fool. And perhaps the eyes only get brighter when they are being shared, when the combined light of souls behind them represents a whole lineage of spectators. The line extending back to the Family Cabin, whose interior is the subtle dark of afterlife: that unseen life which makes the windows like one-way mirrors.