Saturday, October 5, 2013

Part VIIII

Listening to Adele. Playing Gears. Drinking iced-tea. Unsweet. Wearing paintclothes for no particular reason but I'm ready dear friend, for the day.

Happy Anniversary.

It's been 9 years of words exchanged over this enchanted device. And in the midst of having friends that make me think why even bother having enemies, I have you, and I wanted to remind you Narnia is real in the midst of pain and elusive gmail archiving problems. Don't cease to believe. It is the one tragic thing I could not bear in this life, and

If encouraging you is one of my sole purposii in life I am happy to do it. Because you my dear one, are priceless.

It's been a few weeks since I heard from you, and though you can't feel it, there is magic humming at your fingertips- that table is a series of molecules moving at a rate we can't perceive- we run our fingers over the smooth and cool of the surface. It seems so ordinary and we look out- the way the wind whips right now through the sky into the tree, trouncing the leaves they twist shudder and unfurl. They bend but don't break. They fly off and out and the tree won't forget them. The way my cat's whiskers arch and twitch as he yawns. The way the light dances through the eye, the way our muscles move into smiles. The breath, deep in a sigh our whole body responds aching for peace. Rest be with us this day. God be faithful. Bring unity to our hearts and bodies. Bring us to wholeness.

Can I understand the miracle of my hands?
To be silent and let it pass without an exclamation?
To leave you there disbelieving in your extraordinary life?
When look how you are and how much God must love you.
My heart beats fast at the thought.

Let me run into the yard and disappear into space.
And I just went to try but the hose needed to be moved and Twist was mewing at me and I picked her up. That green of her eyes staring wide at me and the pincing of her claws as she wonders why the water is disturbing her rest. She mews. She mews. Her fur a midnight with streaking stars. And the morning glory blooming that ostentatious purple mocking me and the weeds taking over the orderly roses. And the warmth of my flipflops against the sun. And I heard no need to fall away up and out and into because I am right here. You haven't far to go. Sit beside me.

I will, always and forever Penelope,
m.


 

4 comments:

Daniel Bruckner said...

Wow. Nine years. Where did the time go? Nine prime years. Bloody hell. It really does seem like this blogging adventure started months ago. Two years tops. But it's been nine. Fuck.

m said...

You should, for old times sake give us some questions if it seems right.

bruckner said...

I will oblige.

Daniel Bruckner said...

Your questions.....

1) Do either of you remember why you started blogging? And why do you suppose nine years later you're still doing it?

2) In these last nine years, what has been your most personal post?

3) Are there any topics that are off limits to blogging? If so, what are they?

4) If this blog continues on for another nine years, what do you suppose you will be writing about then?

5) If you could go back nine years to just before this blog's inception, what would you tell yourselves about the arduous literary journey ahead?

6) Do either of you have drafts of unfinished posts? If so, how many? And what were your reasons for not pushing the publish button?

7) Have you ever considered posting under your real names? Would doing so dramatically change your blogging approach?

8) If a stranger happens upon your blog for the first time today, what do you believe they'd think about it? What would you want them to think about it?

9) Have you ever placed a hidden meaning in a post? If so, would it be too much of me to ask you to share an example? And if it wouldn't be too much for me to ask you to share an example, will you share one?

10) Finally, if Heaven exists, what would you like to hear God say about your blog when you arrive at the Pearly Gates?