This week I bite my nails, struggling to maintain pace in the work place and the glory in my soul. How relieving the words that flow out feel, grateful to have habits that let me release, create space for all the things beyond. Your birthday, I hope it is filled with love and honesty and you are facing the challenges, sitting firmly with the grief and letting it wash you, compel you to act. Get a drink in my honor, no doubt I shall unwillingly see you soon.
Big breath in and out, I can feel it all melting away. Hours pass quickly and my life is morphing. The moments cannot weigh down like chain, I am lucky here as I am. There is love, true, and people around me who allow my own qualms to settle and rise as tides. My blood is gone; steam again tonight and let go at last of all that fixes itself inside me. It is clustering. Just a few hours and I am free again. The longer I stretch the activities of my days, the more the dream world digs deep. Last night, to a friend years years back, it was a kind hug and giggles. Birthday girl in the room, I did not say hi.
This has been a growing theme, all these reconciliations and gentle embraces. These parts of me confirm my movement, the collective shifts we all take and all heal from. All night long, all night long. I am of the Sleepers, April sings.
Tonight in the woods I shall burn a letter written to you. This is the final bow, and forward I shall hold my head high, gracefully intercept and brush onward. You have lost me, to rebuild the bridge takes much longer than one thrust of a river on any fateful night.
Remember the bridge at 9th? I was away the summer she was swept away. All the people stuck and wondering what next, I can’t imagine the quiet after all the fuss. Times like this too, I think of the comfort of the water. Unbinded, truthful to her form. The Laws of Nature sooth and consume.
Birth day, you or I to one year ago when I did not even know what it meant, beyond the smoke and fallacy of the weakness of womb. I am like a new child now, understanding myself in all forms and becoming each day. To live for sunlight, this alone has pushed the true nature of it all more infinitely than anything past. All these words and nothing meant, yet we still write the lexicon of our futures out as stone, not hearing the leaves spring out and the wind’s low moan. I do not agree with much these days, outside of Love and Life. Parts of me buried I hope to dig up but instead I push out. Here, now, pivotal example, pushing pushing pushing out and may the moment come for quiet rest this weekend – this evening! Among the achy, lumbering trees Let All Melt Off and Decompose.
I cannot wait to meet you, You are all around me.
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