The story of us

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I confess

it was the love of you

gave me breath

wound around middle finger

flax and straw

plucked from those nearest to sky

a pinch of light

holding lantern against sheltered corners

of myself not recognized

you were dressed in color and feeling

bequeathing underfoot a trail

of sound and touch

caught in memory

your pulse pressed against

my own frigid skin

repelling life so long … forgetful of how

to shed her jade for opacity

when it is too much I reach for

the song of you playing within my hollows

like a scoop of earth will

leave room for planting

you scatter your faith

rows of hope

to take root and turn my emptiness

lavender and mustard

fields stretching out

One glory two uses

anoint this paradox

defying gray

I see a figure in the distance

running to catch up with you

clasping hands they

take off their shoes

soft is the ground beneath their

trust

it is my darling

the story of

us

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43 thoughts on “The story of us

  1. “Holding lantern against the sheltered corners of myself not recognized “. Thank you for sharing your gifts. This is a vivid and a true definition of therapy. Intentions or not, some choose to look while others choose to look away.

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    1. Dearest Rick I meant to write back earlier but have been swamped I will though in a while I promise not forgotten. I hope you are doing okay please know I’m thinking of you. Meanwhile I hope she had a good time even without you, and that you are resting. Remind me to tell you what I found about about Jade.

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    1. Every time I DARE write something with earth and nature in it, I can see you and hear what you might think and it either stays my hand or encourages it. You are quite a presence both literal and figurative, this being a very good thing

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      1. You very much did. Today’s offering of the story of your grandmother, inspired me to write more too – you always do. I think some writers we read just do (not many though) because something about their work connects deeply with us. I can’t even say what it is – preference I suppose like picking a favorite song. Well you did like Bowie πŸ˜‰

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    1. C, I love you. Thank you. And sorry to worry you this weekend, I came out of the big dipper into the little dipper, but it was still not enough to get my words out of my ass it seems πŸ˜‰ what say we try some time this week? I hope you’re safe, it’s raining cats and dogs over here – big hug my brother

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    1. Very true – there is no ‘us’ if there is no trust. So often what people perceive as trust is a bag of bones, loosely held together. It is necessary for greater connection for this thing called trust to be sincere and not just a five word lullaby. I don’t know how it works, in the world of continuous temptation, yet I see it sometimes, in the steady hand of love, an unexpected loyalty just when you had given up and believe the world governed by the temporary

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