eight twenty seven

and i was in the woods again.  there were leaves. and it felt like a miracle.  every year there are seasons yet when i felt the leaves underfoot, i remember what the past two years have done to the shape of things.  i closed my eyes and when i opened them, you were there.  not the one who left me to flounder in the mud as my world closed around me.  not the one who talked a good game and then amounted to very little in the end.  you were there, the shadow i never knew i had.  parallel roads with unique journeys, someday to intersect.  i closed my heart and when i let it open, you were there.  something in the autumn breeze gave me courage, and i grew wings.  something in your inflection, and it became obvious.  something in my history, and the world became small.  september came and went.  i picked apples that were tart and scented in cardamom, and pears that tasted like gingerbread.  you walked quietly along ocean shores and poured yourself into what you have sculpted. i felt a million miles away and while girls roamed the streets with heart shaped umbrellas, i poured myself into a sinkhole as i forgot who i was temporarily.  i went back to being that orphan girl who doubted her existence.  i was too round, too loud, too needy, too sensitive, too demanding, too large, too smart, too everything.   i heard their echoes driving down the hallways and i ran.  i picked up and ran.  i felt the wind in my hair and suddenly i looked back.  i could see the distant shadows of my doubts and something happened.  get in the battle, fight for your own heart for once, the voice said.  forgive yourself.  finish breaking yourself open so you can be that buttery force of nature you know you are.  and so i turned, and i did it.  no anger, no bitterness.  a simple confrontation to what had been holding me back.  no, i’m not perfect.  i’ve got a curve to me i’m still not comfortable with.  i blurt out stupid things and try to be stronger and less porous than i really am.  but i am this:  i am loved.  i am generous.  i am brave.  i am sensitive.  i am energy and i am peace.  i am not one that you’ll ever be able to pin down in a particular category yet i will always be your sanctuary.  i will give you my love and i will give you my time and i will be your rock.  i see you as you are and i open my eyes, and see that you are wholly in front of me.  you will never meet him.  you will never shake his hand.  but you will take care of me.  and that would make him happy.  he heard my heart breaking and maybe he knew that in death he had more power than he did in life to affect my world.  maybe he knew that our walks were infinite. that whenever i look up at the clouds and see the leaves turn from green to red to yellow to brown, that is you.  you can’t protect me, but you can remind me of where i’ve been, and where i might be if i let myself just be.  so i close my eyes real tight, and remember what you told me, and listen.  little girl, i am proud of you.  your daddy loves you.  how is it that having someone just tell you they are PROUD of you can make you catch your breath?  the thought of it is intoxicating.  not the same as compliments.  it’s instead to say, i know you, i see you, i bear witness to you, i give you my support.  and so i put the old cassette from twenty years ago and i see this girl just starting on a new chapter in her life, surrounded by a family that has since shattered.  little girls clamoring at my legs and dogs bounding and people smiling and laughing.  the only time we were ever all together.  and i remember family.  and i know that is what i have to remember.  and i give you all sides of me.  my voice shakes and my hand trembles, but i have my wings.  and you?  i just hope you will take all that i have, wrap your long arms around them, and tell me to breathe.  hold my face in your hands and remind me to breathe.  look into my eyes and let me see.

Each one of us is a blend of life and death. In the most literal sense, our bodies always contain old cells that are dying and new cells that are emerging as replacements. From a more metaphorical perspective, our familiar ways of seeing and thinking and feeling are constantly atrophying, even as fresh modes emerge. Both losing and winning are woven into every day; sinking down and rising up; shrinking and expanding. In any given phase of our lives, one or the other polarity is usually more pronounced. But for you in the foreseeable future, Aquarius, they will be evenly balanced. Welcome to the Season of Rot and Regeneration. 
~ from Free Will Astrology (Aquarius)

  One thought on “eight twenty seven

  1. August 28, 2010 at 10:12 am

    i hope for love, for you.
    I hope the sweetness it brings.
    The protection of his arms
    Completeness on love's wings.

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  2. August 28, 2010 at 12:14 pm

    so sweet…thank you!

    Like

  3. September 2, 2010 at 10:52 am

    Lovely…

    Like

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