Monday, November 1, 2021

A Solitude that was Waiting for Us

High up in starlight lie concentric circles inviting us to an expanded understanding of travel. I mean, maple leaves fall through the afternoon, and cardinals pass back and forth through the yards comprising the neighborhood. If giving attention matters, upon whose law does the mattering rest?

She reappears in late fall, approximately fifteen months after my study began, taking the form of a Greek woman who does fear any austerity. What is a number? I drive slower on the off-ramp, gazing north at faint mountains I know are named Vermont.

Pure essence of being obfuscated - polluted even - by writing it out. Socrates was basically correct, presenting me therefore with a terrifying - a forbidden even - austerity. Geese pass, their deep cries in the dusk what I imagine having a blood brother would be like.

Baked beans. Stephanie invites us to a weekend afternoon cider press gathering but we pass, entering now a solitude that was waiting for us in the basement of the church at the wedding but which we forgot or ignored. Pictures of winter sunsets in cheap frames, nonetheless loved.

Slowly I accept the Greek insights, knowing her as my teacher from long ago, come once again to complete at last my training. Waking before it is light, drinking coffee in the dark, talking to myself in a way that resembles but is not in actual fact a prayer. There is no beginning and no end, only this extension of love which is ongoing.

Whales rise in moonlight to take their place with stars. I lay my tongue on the center as directed, press down, awaiting further instructions. Who doesn't love blue.

Quarter moon blurred by rain. Passing between shades, singing ancient songs.

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