Monday, December 14, 2020

Frightened of What I am Becoming

On the zafu again, catlike and sad, the way I was in my twenties when Dan and I would hold each other and cry. How much breaking can one heart stand? Light seeping into Burlington streets, love like melting snow spilling from interior gutters: baby please don't go.

Sleet falls, grazing frozen ground I'll break later to re-fence the pasture, parts at least. Who is hurting who. Jesus in bare maple trees, hanging on, waiting. In the end, where isn't Golgotha?

I am frightened of what I am becoming.

What are you now I am no longer what recognizes you.

Christmas decorations hang on Main Street, a sense of something crumbling we will not live to see the end of. Africa forever family. We will be taken from each other.

We will be buried in a hurry, prayed over in a rush.

"The Tsar will see you now."

Military jets pass overhead. We have secrets but we won't have them forever. Nothing lost means nothing found means nothing seeking nothing.

Please my God: no more morning, no more night.

A sound the tea makes being poured. Bells which signify this love is not the end of our learning.

No comments:

Post a Comment