 I carry two bags
everywhere I go. The weight of which each moment I know. Reality is like a shutter for which I no longer hold the chord. Like angels ascending and descending, my eyelids flutter; I drift off like Jacob and wrestle with God through the night. Who can say if God is here or there? For me, my mind is neither here nor there, and God must be in-between.
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 Morrow Palmer I speak feline.
It is second nature for me. A game of subtlety filled with discreet gestures, pauses, and reflexes. A full body symphony. Are they not speaking? How could they not be? My cats never stop their squeaking, tail sweepings, and round-the-corner peaking. Even a fortress of walls separating us I hear their conversations each time wood floors quake and tremble.  Lake Waco Heartbreaking is not even in the same universe as what I am feeling.
I die every moment of every day. My body convulses and forms a cavity around itself. The howling of a thousand wounded animals echoing out through the night is a whisper compared to the wounded animal within me. Written August 27, 2022  Cameron Park River Trail Waco, Texas I wonder what he saw that invited such kindness towards me.
Was it the exposed wound I wore on my face as masked smile? Was it the way I sat down under the weight of a broken reality? Maybe it was my blood shot eyes unable to produce another tear? Only he knows why. All I know is in my drowning a hand plunged into the waters of my grief and held me up to breathe. A grace. A gift. A pure gift. Written August 11, 2022  I spend my days in a mystery Made of flesh and bones Held together by woven fibers And the wetness of life. A Body Mystery Written May 13, 2023 Categories |
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