On at Least Trying to Be

In the words of Hush Puppy: "I wanna be cohesive."

My painful realization of the day yesterday was this: I am obsessed with pursuing/being in a romantic relationship.

So...shit.  This self-awareness endeavor is no joke. 

Now what?

On Benefitting from Doubt

Remember that time I said I wanted to be taken advantage of? Scratch that. I definitely do not want that to happen.

I do still want to be kind and am trying to practice this skill daily. (Things tend to get easier the more you do them, good or bad...take that for what it's worth I suppose.)  I also realize that life for me is filled with far fewer wild adventures and many more quiet ones: interacting with humans, being outside, exploring.

Maybe re-learning how to be me is enough this year.  Maybe next year I get to re-learn how to be with others. Or maybe not.  Maybe I don't have holiday plans for the first time in my life and this is both terrifying and mildly okay.  Maybe being okay with the 'unknown' is an awkwardly small step in the direction of a much larger desire to be gracious in the art of letting go.

Whatever that means.

Forgive my negativity.
It has been too long since I have written any sweet words.

"On Cities"
I have not come across a place
as difficult as you.

Your parks and sidewalks
sparkle,

But tear up my boot's soles,
challenging me to take one more step.

So I climbed to the top of all the no-name bridges,
and sailed away to the jail at sea.

I cannot seem to grasp the congestion of square miles
or the vastness of one urban block.

He has fallen into your rhythms so well;
and I, bow my head in peace,

and command my troops
surrender to your composition.

on forgetting to be selfish.

Congratulations, Papa Bear.

on postponing.

we talked for about an hour the other night
&i was able to end the conversation in a peculiarly peacefull mood.
"we do really want the same things?"

truly, is it so simple as that?

administration

don`t tell your wife that
you never wear your wedding
to work on week days.

93105

"oatmeal sticks to your ribs, you know."
i remember your words at the grocery store, &hurried breakings of fast in the office.
&now i am left to ponder:
are these really the things that have harmed you? is that why you yelp, &squirm &tease me into patting your head every now &then?
does divorce really do that to pre-teen bones?
are you afraid of being a lone in the night?
i am observing you [three] to be sure. &oh! what an interesting sort!
why are these ideas suddenly so intriguing to my mothered&fathered heart?
is this what happens when you date a psychologist?!

lisa scandrette.

there`s something to be said about a woman like you.
there`s something to be said about the lady who has been adventuring for so long, since so young.
there`s something to be said about the trust of rejoicing when mark speaks to college-aged students.
&highschoolers.
&middleschoolers.
there`s something to be said about quiet confidence, &living in a greater wholeness, than the author himself(?)!
i met you once.
i don`t exactly know what i expected from you.
you seemed happily content, supervising the stew &tomato dicing.
we exchanged no words, even.
perhaps a knowing glance. once.
what was it about you, then?
what is it that is so freely able to sidle up next to another beating heart, &say, "yes, yes, this. this is living."
what is it in you that dances so harmoniously to the chords of the Holy Spirit?
what is it about your spirit, as eager as a child`s, that says,
"yes, Lord! oh! pick me! pick me!"

please pick me, then too, sweet Jesus.

for time i have wasted.

amphibians are croaking outside of my windows.
&you ran to me [really!] in the earlier hours of the day.
it sort of makes me wish i was just at home on rocky shores drive.
it sort of makes me want to walk our dogs down the dusky streets, &take the short cut back.
it sort of makes me want to call a friend &have a solid conversation.
it sort of makes me grate full that i can go to sleep after eight tonight.
it sort of makes me want to grow up.
but then again,
it sort of makes me want to fly.

IV.

Let all mortal flesh keep silence, &with fear &trembling stand; ponder nothing earthly minded, for with blessing in His hand, Christ our God to earth descendeth, our full homage to demand.
King of kings, yet born of Mary, as of old on earth He stood, Lord of lords, in human vesture, in the body &the blood; He will give to all the faithful His own self for heavenly food.
Rank on rank the host of heaven spreads its vanguard on the way, as the Light of light descendeth from the realms of endless day, that the powers of hell may vanish as the darkness clears away.
At His feet the six wingèd seraph, cherubim with sleepless eye, veil their faces to His presence, as with ceaseless voice they cry:
Hallelujah, Hallelujah; Hallelujah, Lord Most High!

peregrine falcons

tnaw I I want
.sterces siH His secrets.
sih ,ecno roF For once, his
.sterces tsetfoS Softest Secrets.

Legacy.

"I promise you not a moment will be lost as long as I have heart & voice to speak & we will walk again together with a thousand others & a thousand more & on & on until there is no one among us who does not know the truth: there is no future without love."

[andnot just that romantic kind, either.]

2 teeny, tiny

boots by the
curb on the
street
perfectly placed,
side by side
as if...
though I hesitate to say
as if the legs once inside the shoes
attached to the body of a babe
had been snatched up into the sky
and left me here,
too busy writing
to realize
my own
mistake.