Monday, December 17, 2012

Lumbering Away, Glancing Back

A way piano notes have of arriving where one does not expect without jarring. You rise at 4 a.m. and listen to the rain. Dogs at the window sadly. I have felt this way about you as long as I can remember.

It's settling that I'm talking about, a sort of coming to coherence, naturally. We often mistake greed for freedom but life is not about getting what we want. Pine trees by the fire pond dusted with ice. We will not - not now - see a bear in the distance lumbering away, glancing back.

Silence becomes us. Yet I still long for what only you can give - a word. It is this to which we all aspire regardless of learning. Later, when the guitar entered, one began to understand the stars - the heavens, really - in a new light.

Elegance matters. We are released as we learn to let go as - for example - we choose not to trouble the smoky lair of sleeping mammals in December. Each sentence begins in the ground we share which is why they resonate the way they - the way we - do. Electricity was always there - remember that.

Ah guilt you remind me always of what I will not forgive! We will never be framed that way. You bring me to my knees and you know it. We lean towards salvation, we check ourselves, we are - you and I, together at last - almost there.

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