resetting
a poem on human resiliency and the mother of love, a conversation
sleepless body pulled out of bed, no air through window, no bird song for me.
it is raining today.
pitter-patter on glass, big tear drops from the Universe, the One i often lift my gaze and pray to.
are you tired today? I ask, speaking to someone, something beyond
just me.
dear Universe, have you rested lately? I feel you. deeply. with me. we are so alike. how do you live?
am i really asking, how do I?
a drop from my own eyes, left, then right. I am watering, i think.
and thoughts from thoughts: it sounds so human… because you are.
you are. you are.
the observer of me says: eyes are still crusty, not yet fully opened to the stormy light of day
break.
then another voice: what can they see in between the moist and the dry? what will they see?
hmm, who said that, i wonder.
more questions: what do birds see
through their eyes, how do they live?
who is thinking this, me or the me inside me or the me inside the me of the me inside me?
scratch that. scratch that. or don’t scratch anything.
remembering again, it all
belongs.
(oh this mind… )
pitter-patter. one more tear. or two.
i fear that i do not know how, i hear my own heart echo, as i watch the pane fill and fill and fill with moist exhaustion
to live this life. to move through another day. to get dressed. face the world. love it. try again to be me.
in the most human words I know to explain this human stuff - i am scared.
too unrested to feel ashamed.
how?
what a question today. could the Universe be too…
sometimes?
loud, powerful pitter-patter and slow, silent, seeping drops, more alike
than different.
coming from the need to release. and release. and release.
clean me, please… my pitter-pattering, crusted prayer.
i place the kettle on the stove. hand on something solid. certain… the water will boil.
the water will boil. who ever thought this could be both my trap and my anchor.
i turn on the flame. orange glow on face as i wait. for the whistle. for the answer. wipe one eye, another eye. wipe away feelings from my cheek. and then another.
and another.
it has been emotional of late, crusty corners out there, in here. the world, my heart, different,
yet alike.
i scan my weighted chest and belly, heaviness in my hands. the same hands that generously rub my burning neck, tenderly as if to say, too much.
too much too much too much
and then there it is, arms like gold-dusted fairy wings from behind my curved-over shoulders. cardboard becomes cotton-silk blend. just like that.
everything regulated.
she is whistling song. no lie.
magic, no. my most virtuous, vital verity
the answer. you just do. as with her, you just do,
the mother of all Love.
never a question or doubt. never a moment skipped. constant. resilient. heat resistant. blessedly buoyant. always.
both you and the Universe
release now.
then
reset.
as she asks me if I can pour her a cup, a smile rises. it spells out strength, will, trust… welcome back.
yes, i can. good morning, love.
Sometimes it feels like we are alone floating in the middle of a dark, wild ocean, we cannot see what is right beneath the surface, cannot handle thinking of what is deep down and under. We feel like we are incapable of doing the most basic thing we were born to do - live.
But we can be sure, we are not alone. The whole Universe is feeling this too, with us. And…
we can. We know how.
‘the water will boil’…
Some days we see everything with wonder and will. Soothing, like a cup of toasty tea poured by the gentlest hands.
Others, with tears, turmoil, and terror.
The question is always the same: Can we love?
The answer too is the same. Yes, we can.
Words from Byron Katie remind me that when there is no story, there is no suffering. There is no doubt.
Release into this…
I can. I have. I will.
Reset with me today. Drop your drops if you must, release, and return to the mother of all love - your own and mine… the light of this day… the love of the whole Universe.
my heart reaching out towards yours, xo Danni
You are so beautiful, inside and out. Gracias friend
The most powerful line- I’m scared- there is such strength in vulnerability