Thursday, February 23, 2017

sacred ground

Walking in the forest
I see one after another; 
tiny dew drops resting on young leaves 
They collect and share light
like soft fleeting diamonds 
Viridescent moss crawls up the deep saturated trees, 
encircling their trunks 
like delicate lace hems 
Tender white petals sprinkled down the trail, 
are commingling with fallen foliage 
of seasons past
Scattered further and further from their source, 
they bring their message with them: 
Spring is here
My puppy's curious nose follows a small purple butterfly,
 no bigger than my thumbnail, 
as it flutters low 'round the ivy 
 She watches from a distance, 
seeming to sense its magic 

Wandering along the creek
I start to weep 
My tears fall below me 
like salty sea cousins of the fresh morning dew,
 gritty and rugged as they splash the ground 
How does the dew form in perfect round droplets? 
My grieving pauses in a moment of thanksgiving
for this beauty surrounding my feet
Though my head hangs heavy 
I am soothed by this sacred ground 
that receives my weight
one step at a time.

Saturday, February 11, 2017

no words

Today marks one month since I left ATL and arrived in Oklahoma.
It has been 31 days since my grandmother Celia passed away.
It has been 26 days since my great Aunt Jan passed away.
It has been 23 days since I called an ambulance to take my mother to the ER, and on to ICU.
And it has been 5 cloudy, heart wrenching, sporadic uncontrollable sobbing days since I watched my mother take her last breath.

This is all still so raw and so very very sad that words like 'sad' seem to have lost their meaning. I still don't really know what is happening. And don't know how long this feeling will sit heavy on my chest, making it hard to breathe.
But I do know that my mother and the generations of strong women before her, two of whom we also just lost, have raised my sister and I to be strong and adventurous and loving women. And I feel that in my blood and my bones, even as it's hard to move and speak. I am forever grateful for the powerful village of amazing people my mother stitched together like a beautiful warm quilt, now wrapped around Carrie and I. This will take time, but we will be ok. Love you all. Miss you with all my heart, Mama.