Sunday, April 26, 2020

INTERIM: Tea and a Lifetime

On my way home the other night - hours in the cathedral of the winter forest, idolizing Venus and the faint crescent of the Lambing Moon - I passed the cabin in which we were going to share tea and a lifetime and heard you loving someone the way I once dreamed you'd love me. Yet I didn't stop or slow, being neither prurient not curious, nor willing to break the new vows. Gazing up through snowy pines in solitude one is gently lifted beyond the range of their emotional encripplement. Is left alone with the wolves? The Lord says "here is the path and here are your feet" and the rest you have to infer. I bemoan nothing in the choir loft to which I've been consigned, me and my broom and my obsession with shoes. Lifetimes passed letting men cut out my tongue, the better to learn how to live with silence. "No man sees my face and lives," wrote one who saw His face and lived. Rumors abound and all stories are crutches: listen.

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