Thursday, May 13, 2021

Alone Despite Requests for a Companion

Violets which against our will are torn from the earth, left as bright litter wherever attention rests on them. Yet what is a gift, what is a giver. Chris and I talk about cannabis, local history, the challenge of holding coherent world views these days, et cetera.

In the welter, a woman, and in the woman, a path forward that is clear and coherent. It is relationship all the way down. Four renegade tulips: two red, one yellow and that's red and yellow both and leans more than the others, as if determined to discover and then re-enter its source. 

Mowing the front yard less regularly as a way of discovering oneself in laws that are unrelated to how things look to others. Falling fences, falling hemlocks

I am a vast cosmic blossom watching itself blossom, you? 

At last one goes beyond "or else," at last one attains a brief but divine rest. The obsession with objects - my grandmother's salt and pepper shakers, my other grandmother's tea cups, my prisms and stones, the crucifixes, books, glass bottles, candles and ceramic birds - are simply lovely images by which one remembers over and over that loveliness is unrelated to images. 

At dad's grave - alone despite several requests for a companion - I cry quietly, what feels like uselessly, sagging against the car, forgetting what I meant to say/ask/forgive. Raucous blue jays in nearby scrub brush. Fear, and everything that comes with it, and that which fear is not, nor can be, ever.

Things die, or seem to, and it's okay, is what I tell myself driving west on the turnpike, eschewing the lovelier but longer Route Two because I miss the kids, want to be home for dinner, et cetera. When we turn our backs on the sea, are we actually turning our backs to the sea or is something else happening that we can't yet put into words? Even the demons know Jesus and so our knowing alone is insufficient unto grace, hence both study and works.

Carrying coffee to the hay loft I spill a little on my "new" sneakers. A rosary for those who remain open to what is yet mysterious, that it might be revealed later.  

I mean this love flowing through me, this radiating joy - what did I do to earn it but not resist when I was gently - insistently but gently - pushed out of its way?

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