We have to learn how to live in this
How to reckon with the heaviness
How to learn to breathe underwater
on the wet lung days
How to sit with unease
and rest there
We have to water our own plants and walk the dog around the block
No one is going to do this for us
I am slowly learning that forgiveness and apathy are very different creatures
and to allow them in the same room provides no movement
I am remembering
that still waters are not clean to drink from
and neither is a still life
Learning many things that I’m told I have known before
How many lives and how may re-births?
“Let’s unpack that” , he says
But I remember that I have always pulled at clothing slowly from an open suitcase, long after arrival
No person can provide the push for another
I sit outside and and meditate upon the spotty sunlight
the goosebumps on my leg and
Andrew Bird’s violin makes the trees dance
maybe is does not matter if wind or bow moves them
and all I can know if that this is all the heaviness needed to question
and the beauty in understanding that we understand nothing