At tomorrow morning’s
running tide I will slip this mooring and sail forth into uncharted
waters of a new life. Reborn again. Not running away, but towards.
Never intended by fate or destiny to lay anchored in snug harbor.
Surrounded
by open boxes, awaiting the remains of my life for the past seven
years. The essential things packed and shipped. But the precious
things, special mementos of this phase, await the savage discipline
of my small car for the long haul toward Had She Said Yes. Saying yes
now, and more. Sharing what the process was like for her,
commiserating with mine.
Awakening
this next to last morning I was conscious of time before time was
measured and what will be, by imagination or projection, after time
is forgotten. Not merely by she or I, but us all, this many of us,
going through, essentially the same process on a macro scale. Then
too the immortal morality of kindness and my sense of living epochs
in day; the infinity of now.
Of
special concern are the mementos by/from/of
M weighed—go—no
go, against
more pragmatic tools and
artifacts.
Conscious that she is within me and the greater part of my heart. For
which there is no evidence save in what I pay forward from her
continuing love and blessings: unconditionally,
generously and kindly expressed.
I
will ask the dawn to remind my beloved, both, that I am constant and
upon the song of birds greeting the morning, walking forward through
each remaining day with them in my heart. Essential
are
visions of
the
heart ever remaining and expanding. Possible to grow a soul in
solitude but a personality only in community.
Yet
about this time, swept forward by tide and lunar cycle,
is
a sweet sadness for what was and joy regarding what will be.
Reminiscent of those who passed away in my care for whom I reassured,
by behavior, their certain continuance beyond death. What more can I
ask of the interlocutor than that? Who it seems has impelled this day
moving forward. Affirming, variously, at each turning, the simpler
choice obvious to Her/Him that which lays secret in my heart.
The vessel of my destiny and
fate subtly slides down the ways of this day.
130630 MDT 03:35 slip away
©
2013 by Jack Spratt—All Rights Reserved
