I have been wandering through past post, almost posts, and previous life narratives. Seems an appropriate response/reaction in/to these times. Mindscapes, mind-captures. And life dances on . . .
is this the day:
I start to cry and do not stop
I break free of my skin
I stop all my bad habits
I start to live
I curl up in a ball
I dance out the front door
I do my tai chi practice (meditation in motion)
I sweep all the floors in our tiny house
I get down on my knees and scrub the floors
I do the laundry
I take my bubble maker out into the yard
I pet the bees on our flowers
I scream until my throat hurts
I throw things at the walls
I trash the house
I organize my crap (papers, miscellanea, “doesn’t bring me joy” stuff)
I deal with the future
I let go of the past
I rid my head of the recriminating voices
I start to write my book . . . books
I become sober
I become unleashed
I . . .
dirty toe-nails half-chewed into talons
cling to the end of the abyss
“It’s so easy,” whispers “just one step forward.”
“She’s always going on about moving forward – here’s her chance”
Like a creaky, ancient porch swing,
I arch over the chasm measuring my depth of field
swing back, beneath the black-hole eaten sky, and
wonder where do the stars go when they blink out.
“Any slice of a breath, a sliver of a moment now,” sotto-voiced, “she will loose her balance”
“She never had any balance. A short-jerk motion; a flailing heel step on that beam”
Horizon is no more — dark against dark; no lightning flashes, no failing nova super stars, no illumination, illustration.
Cliff end, cliff ledge blurs into the vanishing point;
I extend my leg, in tai chi slow motion, foot following ankle, following thigh.