NOTES FROM A JOURNEY
I watch the heavens light up.
A bright orange streak paints the sky.
The garden pavers look like stepping-stones to the sun.
I bend to pluck a flower from the earth. The tug of surrendering is strong, dusty and unsettled.
Yet, I rise toward a forward moving current, in the air, speeding toward closure.
Grief is my guide.
It is a companion that lingers. Dissolving, if it ever does, like salt in a broth.
A seasoned loss.
Past experiences flood me with images.
I look east to childhood. I keep thinking it’s over there somewhere. Remember me?
Emptiness is sitting in the space where I thought I left it.
I hear the intricate melody of a song never sung. Without warning it becomes a deep dark cry.
Now begins the missing part.
The never, in forever.
“Sit down and tell the truth,” I say aloud. “It is the essence of every moment. “
Well, the fact is, there is a lot of truth to tell. I’m not so sure I can stay seated for all of it.