Tuesday, November 17, 2020

Many Steps and Stops

Snow becomes rain and then - the sun a pale disc against gunmetal skies - snow again. Now you are the hill country through which I passed in loneliness in 1989. Skimming familiar sacred texts, knowing they say nothing that cannot be learned in the garden. Holiness is a concept that like all concepts must be gently let go in order to see what - if anything - remains. What remains. The horses wait impatiently for hay, which I carry, along with other burdens, most of them psychological, past the apple trees to the pasture. Certain desires fade as one recognizes her body for what it is in truth and are replaced by a determination to be kind, gentle, forgiving. A long journey includes many steps and stops, all of which rest on a single decision, namely, to go all the way to the end, even if that is the absence of ends. I have no home in this world, and no other world awaits, and that's okay now. It's more than okay. Because you. Always you.

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