body

Callum Featherstone

A life well-lived & the perpetual realms of yonder

Inevitably, your moments of; heartache, and, jubilation, sorrow, and, raucous laughter, will be momentary brushstrokes, of humanising colour, on an eternal, universal, canvas. It does not matter, if, post-use, your sapient, vehicular, corpus is; burnt, buried, or, embalmed. Every; thought, behaviour, and, action, made, in all conscience, must be accounted for, on your soul’s departure, from Gaia.

Just as, an ancient, Egyptian heart, must weigh, equal to, or, less than, the sacred feather of Ma’at. And, St. Peter’s keys, will only allow entrance, to the righteous, at the pearly gates, of the kingdom of heaven. The bearer of the soul, has, not only the mystical responsibility, but, the metaphysical obligation, and, duty, to be; morally and intrinsically: good.

Goodness is paramount to a clean conscience, and, more importantly, a clean soul. Spiritual; cleanliness, wholesomeness, and, goodness, are imperative, in order for the soul to continue, peacefully, on it’s supranatural journey, along the Milky Way, and, onto, the perpetual realms of yonder.

And, when, all is said, and, done, as your life, in all it’s ubiquity, magically, propels before you – like a feature film, or, flip-book, composed of; your natural essence, transfigured by, the shifting sands of time – will you be pleased with, how you; formed opinions, treated others, and, lived your life?

Or, will your soul, be burdened by; sin, loathing, and, regret? Forced to recount, every; hateful decision, every misinformed opinion, and, every missed opportunity, to form healthy human, and, spiritual bonds?

Your familial bloodline, and, genetics, may carry forth, or, they may not – that is, ultimately, out of your control. Yet, your opportunity to contribute, as many beautiful brushstrokes, to this; galactic masterpiece, as your life permits, is perfectly, within your grasp. And, in contributing with good; heart, mind, and, conscience, you enable your soul’s interstellar travel, to the stars; smooth, succinct, and, better yet, truly astounding.

All bonds, of virtue, that bind, righteously, will endure armageddon – not only, sororal, and, fraternal.
Your body, will grow, languid, and, old, but, if wholesome, your soul, will spring eternal.
And, while your body, may be, lost at sea, cremated in flames, or buried within Earth’s crust.
Your before, your presence, and, your beyond, are, permanently crafted, by the moulded creation, of life, in stardust.

Callum Featherstone

Step into the Light

To stand. In the shadows.
Of greater men
-talities;
opaquely.
Unbeknownst of the burden.
Carried; within a silhouette;
of gleaned knowledge.

Dusky, sagely tonnage,
makes cerebra; camel-shaped. Combusting broken, humpy backs.
Ignited; under straw, sewn, skins.
By matchsticks, of sparked duress.

A fire then, lifts, in a burning rage,
courtesy of, camel’s corpse;
showing; Death, is only the beginning; of enlightenment.
And, from; great tribulation, great pain, great loss. Cometh; infinite wisdom.

The miles travelled, within a, fleshed vessel, are;
a measure of;
insignificance…
Within; the Creator’s multiverse.
Just as, the bacterium’s rotating filament is;
unnoticeable, trivial, paltry,
to mankind’s eye.

A soul has no need to walk,
only, to be, an impetus,
for, the light, or, the dark.
A journey to the realms of infinity, beckons.
And, a destination;
unknowingly preordained.
Leaving; an unbeaten path; of universal footprints.

Callum Featherstone

The Poisoned Note

Your mind is the pen.

It’s razor sharp. It’s poignant. It’s a tipped point dipped in poison and from it the words which you write inside your mind stain every nerve with sorrow and despair.

Your body is the paper.

Paper which is cut from the original tree that all knowledge and sense first grew from. From deepest root to budding leaf the cursed, bubbling venom courses through each bodily cell and ruptures and dissolves all that is decent and good.

This is depression.

A poisoned note.

A note which throughout your life becomes volumes of lethargy, melancholy and pain.

And, a note from which you discover the true reality of existence.

And, to think, without this note, would you have ever truly existed at all?

For, it is better to have felt that poisoned ink blemish your body and mind than to have left a blank note.

Your note defines you.

Your note is one worth sharing because we are all noteworthy.

The greatest gift you will ever have is to have written a poisoned note so long and live to tell the tale.