Grief and I can’t care what people think.
I am so humbled to the mystery of life. I sway back and forth to the dark nights that hover around me all the time, the bullies in the bushes.
I am humbled. Humbled also to the mystery of the deep unknown because where exactly is he? I can feel a playfulness in the heavens, in and all around me, hugging me, smiling at me – like a playful little rendevous around me all the time.
I’m ballet-toeing on the edge between the knowing and the unknown.
Today the storm is thawing. There is heavy ice melting. The sky is overcast and it’s an unseasonably warm day. The grounds are soaked and the sounds of dripping water is everywhere. It’s a crisp cool air blowing in my face. I need to write this down. What down? That there are sales and leasing signs every where I look?
Do you feel me now?
I looked at the porch door, and just as I thought, it’s swollen from the storm and no longer fits in it’s frame. The door banging is added to the background.
Write this down: I am satisfied.
Here, I am satisfied. I see the beautiful orchid, it was a gift, just freshly ice-cubed by me for the umpteenth time. It’s such a bright spark of paint on an otherwise grey day.
I am so humbled. Humbled to the mystery of life, I sway back and forth…
I am satisfied.