Thank you for being here. I'm so glad you're here.
Thursday, November 7, 2013
There Is No Gone
full breath of November
me remembering – rainfall
carries me back, lands me hard
that morning when windshield wipers
keep up. When engine and wheels couldn't
us there fast enough – before – oh my God how it rained -
Dove wakes me
her own kind of story. Her
words can never say
call giving voice to the heavy, this heavy tug
eyes. The way she never stopped giving. How fucking hard it rained.
may not seem like much
I know what I must do
must dip fingers into paint
white canvas with what seems to be gone
dipping in and out – heart satiated
could matter more than this?
Eyes close. Breath slows. Softly – I come back
to here. And I stay until
some unnamable beloved
curls in close. I stay
until I know what the Dove knows until I'm drenched and dripping with the truth of it -
there is no gone.
* * *
For my sister-in-law whose body left us a year ago but who, I know, is always right here. Thank you, precious Amy, for showing me the true power of giving - the true gift of breathing - and for showing me that there is only ever this one now moment. I love you so.