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Silence

this past week was silence. stillness. rest.
lately, i've been living in extremes- basking in the noise and the hustle and then taking refuge in silence and rest.  listen for the silence in your world- it is always waiting <3
 
silence
it is silence that covers your secret voice
with blankets warmer than springtime
it is silence that softens the line of your mouth
when you realize that you belong, have always belonged
it is silence that reminds the tenuous beating heart
that is does not owe
the grinding world outside any precious affections,
that its glorious turning is enough, has always been enough.
it is silence that listens to the longing in your bones

photo by Keren Fedida

photo by Keren Fedida

Water- a love note

Wake up early, before the shrill of the day can match you to its fever pitch.  Wake up early while the rest of the house remains quiet and far off in sleep. Wake up early and listen to the rain rattle the old roof and rustle the endless piling of leaves in the yard.  Turn off the alarm and ease yourself into recalling your dreams.  Water.  It begins and ends with water.
    They say it never rains in southern California, that’s the song that keeps playing in your head.  You’ve been here for exactly twelve days and it has rained three times.  It reminds you of the very early spring back east, where the warm currents claw their way out of from beneath the thick and endless winter cold.  
This is not spring.  No.  This is winter now. Go ahead, laugh like an idiot.  Role around in your bed and smile until your smile muscles start to quiver.  You’ve done it. Here you are.
    You fancy yourself to be the water bringer.  You know it’s been drought here, so much drought.  Then the floods came and brought you tumbling forward, and now the rain is settling in as you start to live with the idea that you’re here and not there.  It is the dreams, you tell yourself, the dreams of water.  You are diving in, submerging, swimming.  You are listening to the water move across the sandy soil as if it were the sweetest soundtrack you’ve ever heard.
    Look at the mountains.  Look at the mountains and remember once more that you are nothing, you are not anything that can’t be ground down to dust by one single rock slide.  Remember that the water will never know the wonder and the terror with which you behold the mountain, for it will bury the rock slide as it births a new landscape.  In the end, even the rock cannot resist the will of the waters. You start to laugh some more.  Yes, like an idiot.  Your smile muscles are getting stronger, but they’re not strong enough.  You invite that ache in your jaw.  It reminds you of the person that you love.
    He’s somewhere far off beyond some other mountain range.  Most likely, his smile muscles are at work just like yours.  The string that you tried to cut from your ribs, the string that tethered you to his life, that string is wiser and much older that the two of you combined.  It did not snap at the distance of continents or the force of separation.  It became low and quiet, waiting in the ether of your vision just behind your eyelids and earlobes.  It began to tug at the smile muscles so that when he pulls in laughter you begin to twitch and move into aliveness. It lassoed around the water of your dreams so that when you submerge, he will take to swimming.  
This is the longest string in all the universe.  This is the string of so many lives that tangle and knot and bend together and apart, but never will sever.  So now you must ask yourself, as you have so many times: how can this be? how could this miracle choose me?  
Oh my, what a silly question! This is so much bigger than you or he or even any life you bring into the world together.  This is the thing that makes death so wild and sorrowful, to know you have found the magic that is worth living for, the kind of love that is worth dying for.
“No more waiting in line!” life has proclaimed.  
Oh, these smile muscles, teetering between laughter and tear.  Answer yourself this question: how could it ever be that you were not meant for this? how could it ever be that life would pass you over?  The answer is the rock slide and the rib bones, the thousands of miles you’ve traveled to see the red earth of the first nation peoples.  The answer is his eyes, the eyes which you imagine your child gazing up at you with.  The answer is his voice and the smile on his mouth which sweetens the turn of his words.  It is every possibility of joy that exists because he exists.  It is the rain, the way in which it flows through, even the bald faced mountain rocks which seems so impossible.  It is the water, the way it changes form but still retains its elemental magic.  It is water, like you and me.

 

nothing is breaking

when love comes to stay with me pulling the dining cloth out from beneath all the carefully sorted fragile things leaping up with great relief landing now with flare and ease skins of glass and fancy wood beam touching shyly at first, a maddeningly delicate embrace what is this strange new feeling so naturally and chaotically swept into being nothing is breaking but everything has changed

 

trading flesh

no training wheels just go rolling across the cement stages of life   sometimes you drift that way you bend quite dangerously low perhaps you swing back to center, somehow   imagine shoestrings tangled with chain and pedal crunched and choked in grease   sudden stillness flings you forward skin seeking gravel grinding it hurts to trade flesh   you know   those rocks are still in my knee caps fusing themselves to tendrils of tendons bathing in blood and plasma   bits of me are blue and knotted now as so many life forms make a home beneath my skin perhaps they never were smooth and young, either

no training wheels
just go
rolling across the cement stages
of life
 
sometimes you drift that way
you bend quite dangerously low
perhaps you swing back to center, somehow
 
imagine shoestrings
tangled with chain and pedal
crunched and choked in grease
 
sudden stillness flings you forward
skin seeking gravel grinding
it hurts to trade flesh
 
you know
 
those rocks are still in my knee caps
fusing themselves to tendrils of tendons
bathing in blood and plasma
 
bits of me are blue and knotted now
as so many life forms make a home beneath my skin
perhaps they never were smooth and young, either

suspension

i want to stay here just a little bit longer i want to marinate in this flood of stillness before everything begins again   i want to simmer here, slowly and watch the shapes behind my eyelids roam freely through the glow of my mind   i want to live here for just a moment in this space between the air and the ground where my shadow is slow and heavy with evening   if i can stay here long enough something will break open in me that i’ll be strong enough to master  

i want to stay here just a little bit longer
i want to marinate in this flood of stillness
before everything begins again
 
i want to simmer here, slowly
and watch the shapes behind my eyelids
roam freely through the glow of my mind
 
i want to live here for just a moment
in this space between the air and the ground
where my shadow is slow and heavy with evening
 
if i can stay here long enough
something will break open in me
that i’ll be strong enough to master