With the recent atmospheric river coming through, the water soaks into the bluffs and sections collapse. Most of the trees are holding on in the face of loss.
For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: loss.
With the recent atmospheric river coming through, the water soaks into the bluffs and sections collapse. Most of the trees are holding on in the face of loss.
For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: loss.
The Introverted Thinker is eight. Her mother takes her out of school for a week to go to New York City.
They leave her sister and her father behind.
Her mother complains about the school paperwork. “Never let school get in the way of your children’s education,” she says. “That’s what my father says.”
The IT is not sure what all this means. But she is excited.
They go on an airplane. She gets to sit by the window. She can see the ground and it is squares like a quilt with hills. It is so beautiful! She is amazed, magic!
In New York City they go to the house of an old friend of her mother’s. The old friend is old and wears dresses to the ground and a lot of jewelry. The house is dark and there are many things in it. The IT is told that the things are antiques and she must not touch anything. She walks around carefully in the dark places, looking at all of the strange things while her mother talks to the old friend. They talk about the past and people that she does not know.
Her mother takes her to museums on some days. Some are art museums. The IT is already used to art museums because her mother is an artist. The museum is like an art gallery only much bigger and the ceilings are very high. A lot of the art is very big too.
One museum is different. Natural History, says her mother. There are dinosaur bones. The IT can’t touch them either but they are wonderful. Huge animals from the past that are not here any more! She loves it.
They fly home. First she has to thank the old friend with the house like a museum, only darker. Then they go to the plane. This time there are some clouds so the IT can’t see as much, but she still gets to see the quilt of the land.
She decides that she likes museums and she likes natural history. Especially dinosaurs.
Can you feel safe while being in motion?
black on white
white on black
it doesn’t matter
angels falling
made to fall
at peace with falling
I let myself fall
at peace with falling
and wonder what that means?
death?
no
though there are times I long
for the Beloved
for union with the Beloved
for all in one
and one all
let go
when an angel falls
they are at peace
they are at peace
with falling
people
see black and white
people
see good and evil
people
separate
label
categorize
angels don’t
black on white
or
white on black
it doesn’t matter
there is no separation
we are one
Beloved
One
hold me, Beloved
hold me
I long for you
to be reunited with you, Beloved
to return to you
it is the children who hold me
here
the children
my children, grown
the hope of grandchildren
the damaged children
the new and young children
the old children in adults
who are so sad
it is the children who hold me
here
sometimes I am so sad, Beloved
I long for you
I do and I don’t
long for you
to call me home
and hold me
I know
that you hold me, Beloved
every moment
even when I cannot feel your touch
I know, Beloved
you will call me home
and hold me
now and forever
in your infinite embrace
sometimes when
we are alone together
and just talking
wandering from topic to topic
and you say I always disagree
and I say …(I don’t say no I don’t)
and I say I like to think about things
from all sides
and you listen some too
sometimes when
we are alone together
and just talking
it is as if we have reached a harbor
and feel at home
I can’t do it, Beloved
or no
I don’t know how, Beloved
release old grief, I am told
I am to have the intention daily
to release old grief
it sits in my throat
aching lump, knot, old
I don’t know how old
is it from before birth
I haven’t looked up whether antibodies
to tuberculosis
cross the placenta
attacking
Kell kills
that is one of the antibodies
that can kill a fetus
I have the grief
a tiger by the tail
at first I was afraid
that releasing it would lose
some core part of myself
that the me I have built
is the nacre, a pearl
wrapped around a core of grief
but Beloved
I try to listen
I try so hard to listen
to have faith
why pay for help
without attempting to follow
the ideas
unless they are so clearly wrong
conversation
with myself
the past the woman the girl the child the fetus
let the grief go
gently
Beloved
maybe I am not gentle enough
full speed ahead
maybe I need to cradle the grief more
rock it, comfort it, thank it
grief, you protected me so much
from the patterns in the family
Beloved
maybe I need to thank the grief
before I let it go
9/21/17
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